


Downfall

by AlicetheDerp



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga), Death Note (Live Action TV), Death Note (Movies), Death Note: Another Note
Genre: 'huh i probably should do something about that', Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Friends???? to Lovers???? kindof???, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, I haven't decided if it was going to be platonic or not yet, Kira wins, L gets a nurse cause I just gotta throw him a bone at this point, L is a bastard, L is alive but a salty depressed prisoner, L is kind of wasting away, L stealthily pulls out a Team N flag and starts waving it around his cell, Light also treats Misa poorly, Light checks out L without realizing he's checking out L, Light dates Takada and Misa for their abilities basically, Light doesn't know what to do with L, Light has jealousy issues even if he himself is not aware of them, Light is a bastard, Light is intelligent but also an idiot at the same time, Light notices that L is sortof dying, Light wins, Lights giving off strong angry gay vibes across his own hideout, Lights guards don't know how to shut up, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PM!Near, Ryuk is just there for the ride, Which is Understandable, a wild M appears, also don't you hate it when u starve a person, also if I was watari and the task force I just wouldn't get killed by an asshole narcissist, and he doesn't even know it, and thinks to himself, both deserve better, but L is slightly more sympathetic cause Lights a bigger bastard of the two, but everythings FINE, but they then suffer from refeeding syndrome?, cause i borrowed some lyrics for this lol, he says "I'm gonna bully a child in the middle of the woods" Karen, icarus allusions, like RIP to watari + task force but I'm different, next up on the news is the segment "What Does the Fox Say?", obligatory A oc, shady af doctors, shoutout to MIKA, slight mention of past L/Naomi Misora, then try to be nice and give them food
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-10-27 22:44:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20768174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlicetheDerp/pseuds/AlicetheDerp
Summary: Kira won. After killing Watari and taking the world's greatest detective, L, as his prized prisoner, all hope seems lost. Day by day, Kira slowly takes over the world, country by country, nation by nation, completely unopposed in his quest for power. Bleak days come to those who oppose him, and the criminals that hide in the underworld fear for their very lives. Soon, all will bow to the great god Kira, and answer to his one true justice........Wait. Who the fuck is this N prick?(Originally written with my co-creator Sadie. Rewritten for the third time in a row cause I'm a perfectionist)





	1. Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L wakes up and muses over how he got into this unfortunate situation.

Dark shadows squeezed in the corners of the gray room, a single hanging light bulb the only source of light the inhabitant of the prison had. The room was quite spacious, but the only furniture that existed in the room was a single army cot that was set up against the sleek wall on the opposite side of the locked door, right up against where the chains were attached to its surface. A dark haired man with pasty skin had his wrists currently attached to these chains, the length going out only a few feet from his bed. Bruises adorned his pale skin, most hidden under the white fabric of his dirty shirt.

The reason why he was chained to the wall, looking like he got into a fight with a metal bat? He attempted to attack his captor the last time his “host” visited him. It took approximately four guards to hold him down. But by god it was worth the black eye he gave that prick on his stupid, perfect face.

That was yesterday(he believed), but the prisoner didn’t bother to try to get any sleep. He had always had issues with sleeping, but even if insomnia wasn’t the problem he doubted that the uncomfortable mattress would allow him to get any shut-eye. It _totally_ wasn’t the fear that he’d die in his sleep, it was _definitely_ the sad excuse for furniture. So he sat crouched on the bed looking up at the camera tiredly, knowing full well that his kidnapper was watching.

Despite his resistance, he was weak with the lack of sugar (and food in general) in his system , not to mention the grief. The lack of sugar (and food, though he wasn’t as upset with that as he was with the sugar) was his punishment for “being so unkind towards his protector’s hospitality”, and he was already feeling the effects from sugar loss (and much to his denial, starvation in general). His grief was caused by the death-no-_murder_ of his protector, his guardian, his foster father.

_Wammy._

He still remembered that day all too clearly, the day were his justice fell to the ground. Everything appeared in order, the taskforce was hard at work and L was in his room enjoying a meal while Wammy stood by his side. The only people not present were Touta Matsuda (was thankfully late, bless his stupid heart), Misa Amane, and Light Yagami.

Light Yagami. He despised him with every fiber of his being.

L sat up, languishing in the huge room. He still recalled how normal it was that day, with nothing out of place and nothing to give him any warnings that something bad was about to happen. Then he heard the shouting. Despite being stories high from where the ground was, he heard the yells of people slamming against the doors, demanding to get in. Yet he felt no reason to panic...until he heard an explosion from the roof. Wammy wasted no time in scooping up L like he would a child (he was surprisingly resilient for an old man) and running for the panic room, but of course not before they deleted all the data they had with the push of a single button. The detective was his only concern and responsibility after all, so the others would have to fend for themselves. Looking back on it, it was a dick move, yet somehow unsurprising for Watari. L always came first. 

Still, once L heard shouts of “Kira”, it was only then he dialed Matsuda’s phone number and ordered him to take the remaining Yagami family members to safety, excluding the father and Light Yagami since there was a high probability that Light was behind this based on the small smirk he gave him right before the attack began. As for Soichiro and the others...he honestly doubted they would be able to hold back the mob long enough to make their escape. 

There was a possibility that Matsuda would be killed for this, and it might not help much since Kira has all their names and faces. Still...it was doubtful he would eliminate the two Yagami women. He was more closer to them than his father, and L was willing to bet that he wouldn’t kill them too quickly because of this. As for Matsuda, he had shown signs that he partially agreed with Kira on some level, and there was no doubt in L’s mind that Light caught onto that as well. Kira wouldn’t want to murder a possible recruit, especially one that had been involved in an anti-Kira taskforce.

Oh god...he still remembered that horrifying hour way too clearly.

He heard the bombs going off against the panic room doors, and the warmth of Wammy’s arms wrapped around him as if he were a child. The elderly butler’s gun was loaded and ready, though the detective doubted it would do much against a mob. He had miscalculated on how many people were willing to act in the name of Kira. He also miscalculated that Kira would reveal himself to so many people to make this plan work. 

During that time, he was a frightened child who knew that there was no chance of escape. His phone rang several times and all were from Light Yagami, but L refused to answer. After several minutes of chaos, a beep was heard from his phone. With shaking hands the insomniac dared to glance at his latest message, one from which was from none other than the person leading the attack.

**“It's over, L. Come out and surrender.”**

“Rest assure L, they will not lay a hand on you.” he lied, running his fingers through L’s hair like he always did to comfort him. Usually when they were working on a case, his caretaker restrained himself from showing affection towards his charge to prevent the possibility of one being held hostage in exchange for the other. Being so open right now...the detective knew the end was coming. Somehow, L was alright with that. He played and lost the game, so he’ll even forgive Wammy for that poor excuse of a lie. 

L leaned into the embrace and close his eyes in contentment from Wammy’s soothing fingers. The calmness the elder man showed could have easily fooled anyone else into believing that everything was going to be alright, but not L. This was his last stand, his deathbed. There was only a 1 percent possibility of someone from the outside stopping the attack...but that was next to impossible.

At the very least, he would die with Wammy. The investigator glanced up at his protector’s wrinkled face, forcing out a small smile before returning his attention to the door. For most of his life, Wammy had always been by his side and responding to his every whim and need. He was his closest companion, somewhat of a father towards him. He knew Wammy wasn’t the greatest person in the world (the L program, the A and B conundrum, he mused), but as far as people went he was alright, better than alright in his own biased opinion. The detective often pondered on the possibility that Wammy would die trying to protect him, and the hypothetical question on what he would do if that would come to pass. Rationally, he knew he would be able to replace him. Yet his chest always tightened at the thought of replacing the elderly man. 

In the end, he never came to a conclusion on what he would do. It simply wasn’t possible for Wammy to be faced with that kind of danger. L was always careful, and his guardian was a trained fighter. Wammy simply wasn’t a person that could be taken away from him.

Or so he thought.

The detective felt his guardian’s body stiffen and felt large hands roughly shove him away. He spun around and his dark eyes widened in terror and shock as the old man clutched at his chest wheezing. The clocks of time appeared to slow down as the detective watched him collapse to the floor, writhing in agony for a few moments before his body stilled. His guardian faced him with darkle eyes with his mouth still open as if he was still struggling to breathe, struggling to stay alive...

L’s heart pounded in his chest as he engaged in a staring contest with the corpse, praying for some kind of miracle even though all the percentages in his head repeatedly screamed the number zero. A 0 percent chance that Wammy was still alive. A 0 percent chance that he would escape. If not for the endless supply of explosions that rang outside the room, the detective would have heard his shallow, rapid breath.

He closed his eyes, willing the tears not to appear. Now was not the time for mourning, but then again, what should he do? 

** _The bells have rung, the clock is ticking._ **

One minute. Then two. L was still alive and the yells and explosions still went off outside the panic room (seriously, why are there so many explosions?). He knelt in stunned silence as his brain attempted to wrap his brain around what was happening. He wasn’t dead yet...Kira should have killed him by now unless…

Information. Of course Kira would think like that. For what, L conducted several possibilities in his mind, none that he liked. It could be possible that Kira would torture all sorts of information out of him, such as the whereabouts of certain criminals and if anyone else were to join the hunt for the serial killer. The detective sighed, closing his eyes as he made his decision.

_ **It’s time.** _

As L reached for the gun, the doors exploded knocking him backwards and onto the floor, yet he managed to grab the weapon in the process. Dozens of people rushed into the white room, though he was unable to recognize anyone due to all of them wearing red masks. A few noticed the weapon in the detective’s hands and dived towards him, knocking the firearm out of his hand and pinning him to the ground. If it were just one, L could’ve easily knocked them off. With several however, such an action would be impossible, even with his moderate experience in martial arts. 

Still, it didn’t mean he could make it easy for them.

“_Fuck!_” one voice swore after being kicked sharply in the nose. 

Another one of the criminals grabbed his head and roughly slammed it against the floor, knocking the wind out of the detective and making his brain rattle. He groaned as two of them pulled him up to his feet by his arms and led him out of the room. His head swayed as they dragged him down the halls and down the stairs, though he could barely make out anything with his blurred vision and splitting headache. He caught a few insults that were directed at him from the other intruders lining the hallways, none which were amusing in the slightest. The next thing he knew was that he was forced on his knees to be presented to the one who betrayed him, who lied to him, who killed Wammy. Not that he didn’t realize that sooner or later he would do all this, but it still stung like a bad wound.

Light Yagami smiled coldly down upon him as L blinked the spots out of his eyes and turned his head to look at his surroundings. They were in the main room, the red glow of the computers the only thing brightening the room. Kira supporters blocked the exits to prevent any attempts at escaping. Not that there was any chance of that.

The detective thought he saw a strange bundle near one of the chairs. He squinted his eyes to see better, before his eyes widened with what he saw. They were surrounded by the dead bodies of the taskforce. Aizawa, Mogi...even Light’s own father was dead. He couldn’t believe this was happening, that things would’ve gotten _this_ bad so fast.

“Why?”

The killer acted confused, the fabrication purposely horrible to mock the once great detective. 

“Why are you doing this, why did you betray us…?”

“Why did you murder the task force?! Your own father?!” L snapped. He knew the answer of course, but he wanted to pull it from Kira’s own mouth.

Light yawned and leaned on one of the chairs, smirking. Though L thought he could see a flash of pain in his eyes when he mentioned Soichiro, but it went as soon as it had come. 

“Well, you were taking so long to get here, that I decided to ask them if they would join my side. It’s unfortunate that you were too stubborn to get out of that little room. Perhaps you might have changed their minds and saved some lives, huh?”

Red hot anger burst suddenly from him as he lunged toward the mass-murderer. He was but an inch away from him when the followers got over their surprise at his sudden energy and pulled the detective back. Light smiled at L’s attempt to strangle him; this was to be expected of course.

“Oh, don’t worry. Those fools had a chance to say their last words. It’s been a good day, and I’ve been feeling awfully…_nice_ lately.” 

The psychopath’s smile quickly formed into a wide grin as he stared down at his captive. “Would you like to know what they said, _L_?”

L said nothing, so Light leaned forward with a sadistic sneer on his face.

“They cursed you! They called you a coward! They blamed you for the cause of their deaths!” he mocked. “I was really surprised to be honest! I knew none of the taskforce trusted you, but this is hilarious!”

L was shaking so hard, and for the first time he understood a criminal’s desire to kill. To destroy. To end someone.

“What about Watari? I wasn’t aware you were so threatened by an elderly man.”

“You and I both know he’s more than just a regular old manservant. Besides, the old man was in the way. He would’ve further poisoned your mind, L. You have so much potential that I had to save what remained of your mind before he could destroy the chance of you ever being reformed.”

His vision blurred, and the detective winced in pain, so much so he didn’t quite process the last part the narcissist said. Light stared down at him in surprise before reaching out towards the side of his head, as if it was the first time he noticed L’s pain.

“You’re bleeding.”

As soon as he mentioned it, L realized that he did feel something wet on his cranium. He ducked from Light’s hands, anger still shining in his dark eyes. Light frowned but pulled his hand back, leaning back against one of the black chairs and brooding silently over the detective’s injury. The reason why, L was unsure of.

“You’re wrong.”

“Hm?” Light glanced up.

“He didn’t poison me. He served only to tend to my needs and to obey my orders. Those ideals are mine, and mine alone!” he hissed.

The brunet smiled coldly and knelt down in front of him, leaning close and gently wiping the tears off of the insomniac’s pale face. Hah. He wasn’t even aware that he was crying. It shamed him to show such emotion towards the enemy.

L pulled away from him, feeling a slight twinge of triumph when he saw the annoyance (and another emotion????) on Light’s face. It pleased him so much, that despite his current predicament, the great detective decided to piss Light off even further.

“Chief Yagami must be in tears right about now. To see his son fall as far as to murder his own family and coworkers for his own selfish goals.”

“Cut the crap, L. Like you would understand the pain when I had to kill my father.” Light sighed, glancing over at Sochiro’s corpse momentarily with regret. He then turned back with a gleam in his brown eyes and a huge smile on his face. “But don’t worry L. They didn't die for nothing. Soon I'll create a new world that is free from the guilty and where the innocent can live peacefully! Their _sacrifice_ is the first step in achieving this utopia! And I will be the _god_ of it all!”

L trembled, wanting to retort so badly to him. Instead the detective lowered his head, all the sorrow returning to him. Any other person would have lost hope at this point, but L had the intelligence and calculations to know that there were others capable of stopping this madman. But not him. He had failed in his mission.

“Say what you will Kira, but you're just a murderer in the end. You execute the innocent as well as the guilty just so you can get your way.” L spoke before letting out a pained chuckle. “But what do I know? Just kill me and be done with it.”

_“Such a shame too, I was hoping I could have been the one to bring Kira to justice.”_

Light frowned at his reply and studied the broken man before him. L could feel his handlers tightening their grip due to anger at his response. Finally the brunet stood up and took a step back when he came to a decision. 

“Maybe I was a bit too hasty when I executed those three...” Light murmured, glancing over at the corpses.

Those three. The three that included members of the taskforce. But not Wammy. He didn't feel any regret for killing Wammy. Though why should he?

Light grinned as he stared down at the world-famous investigator. “Don’t worry L. I won't execute you like the others, like I was originally planning. Instead, I’ll offer you redemption and give you the chance to see my new world in all its glory!”

L stared in shock at his words, pleasing Light as he gazed down to see his reaction.

“Relax L and be honored! You're one of the few criminals that will get the chance to live to see my new world rise! Of course some people will be upset that you’re still alive, but as long as I reign you’ll have my _protection_. You can be my pet. It’s a _perfect_ fit for you, at my feet.”

The detective couldn't believe his ears. No, this couldn't be happening. This was supposed to end one of two ways!

“Why?” he choked, half horrified, half confused.

Light continued to smile at him but didn’t answer, the silence frightening the detective and causing him to form theories. L’s throat tightened and he began struggling against his handler’s grip. He didn't want to live without Wammy. Without his guardian L felt as vulnerable as a baby. He needed Watari. No, Wammy. Watari.

No, he needed to calm down. He can’t break down in from of Kira, he needed to stay strong. If he didn’t, the detective would never live it down. Deep breaths...yes, just like that. L sighed and he allowed his body to slacken and to stop resisting the two supporters that were holding him.

“I don’t want your redemption…” he murmured. Strange...have all the nights he went without sleep finally caught up to him? “I want…”

His vision blurred. The next thing he knew, he was laying on his back with Light and a few Kira supporters looking down at him. The serial killer’s brown eyes soared with worry as he opened his mouth to speak, but L couldn’t hear the words that came out. Everything was in disarray, nothing was clear. His vision was getting dimmer by the second. In the end, Light was the last thing he saw before blacking out.

** _The bells have rung, but they didn’t ring for him._ **

“…”

“…”

This still was incomprehensible. L shouldn't be in this predicament. He was the world’s three greatest detectives, he shouldn’t have been captured by a college student...unless they were a mastermind like him. 

Dammit. How future historians must be laughing at him now, bested by a freshman college student.

When the detective came to, he was in a windowless cell. A bandage was wrapped around his head, which he immediately removed in disgust. He didn’t want any help from Kira nor did he need it. There he stayed in isolation for the longest time in his life, his only company being the guards who slipped food into the room and the occasional beating (which hurt a lot, but insulting the guards was his only source of entertainment, thus he got beat often). Despite his loathing towards regular food, he still ate and drank enough to stay alive, but that was it. He had no desire to do anything else, not after his humiliation.

“Hey,” one guard muttered. “_Fucker_. You have a visitor, so get ready, _buddy_.”

L regarded him, but made no sign of moving. Thankfully, the guard didn’t seem interested in letting him have it at that moment, so the dark haired man didn’t have to worry about any new injuries. Even with his blank expression, his heart rate increased slightly as he timidly waited for his visitor’s appearance.

The door screeched open and L stared at the floor as Light’s steel-toed boots paced into the cell. Light straightened his slick blue tux, which was more suited for a birthday dinner than meeting with a prisoner. 

“_L Lawliet_,” the evil man purred, 

The detective felt all the color escape his face as he clutched at the fabric of his jeans. The serial killer smiled with glee at his former “playmate’s” reaction. Ah yes, that powerless expression, the fright in his eyes. It was all completely...exhilarating. However, L refused to stay in his stunned state for long, for the fear on his face had vanished as quickly as it had came.

“How long have I been here?” L muttered. 

“Only two weeks. It’s strange to see you so…_helpless_,” Light chuckled. That dick.

L didn’t miss the chuckle that came with his words. All his fear of this man was forgotten as the detective’s temper rose. Before he knew it, he had tackled Light to the floor and raised his fist up before punching him in the eye.

That was pretty much all he was able to do. In that moment guards rushed into the room and leaped at the prisoner. L gasped in pain when his head met the ground and his vision blurred as Light barked some orders. The detective was promptly picked up by his arms and dragged over to the cot, and he felt cool metal cuffs snap over his wrists. Light regarded him coolly as he stood, as if he hadn't been just attacked by his own prisoner, and kept his calm facade even as he raised his hand towards his eye.

_“You don't appreciate me, L. And that’s fine, but if you keep acting like I’m horrible for saving the world, I’m going to restrict your food.” _

L didn’t know who held the title of “shortest conversation” in the Guinness World Records, but he was positive that they came pretty damn close to gaining that title, if they had not already beaten it. Light’s visit had been a great while ago, but the detective wasn't sure of the time. What he did know was that it would be a long time till he could get out of this hell.

It wasn't the end though. As long as his successors were out there and as long as Wammy House stood standing, there was at most a 48 percent chance that Kira would be defeated, 70 percent if they got the upper hand in this struggle. He would not submit to Kira as long as his successors fought.

No, he will simply make Kira’s life more difficult as a sign of his rebellion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys.  
I wanted to get back to this for a long time, but when I reread it again, I still didn't quite like it. So I edited it. So for my readers who've been waiting for an actual new chapter update: my bad. I'll try to stick to this version tho and try to update, but I have college to deal with so...yeah.  
Kudos and comments are welcome to this.


	2. The Curtain Rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light muses over the purpose of keeping L alive. He decides to visit his favorite (and only) prisoner, and bitter words are exchanged. Meanwhile, reports of a mysterious prime minister rises to power over in the United Kingdom, everything unknown about them except a single letter: N.

Every road led somewhere else.

Robert Frost knew that. Light Yagami knew that.

His parents knew that long ago, when they chose to have a child. L knew that, every time he opposed the God of the New World.

Light Yagami was strong and nearly as omniscient as time. His watch was ticking on his arm, reminding him of his new power. The power that he had all the time in the world to conquer the world since he had beaten L. The power that he used to hide in forms of scraps of paper, concealed inside his watch. The power that all his plans could finally be set forth, with nothing to stop him from his goals. For him, time can finally begin ticking.

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick…_

There was something about L that he couldn't figure out, something he simply couldn’t describe. He just had that strange feeling ever since he had decided to keep him alive. Light was currently standing at the buzzing screens of the computer room, watching this dark-haired enigma. Thanks to his surveillance cameras, he had a 360 degree view on him. Nothing escaped his eyes, from the twitch of L’s toes to the rise and fall of his chest.

_L Lawliet._ He wondered what kind of parent would be cruel enough to give their child a letter for a name.

"Light!"

The God of the New World stiffened, hand on the mouse. He'd just zoomed in on the hungry detective. Something in his dark eyes was awfully...defiant. The God of the New World wasn't sure why, but the expression in the investigator’s eyes intrigued him. Excited him. 

"LIGHT!"

"I'm here, Misa!" he called out, managing to keep his annoyance from entering his tone.

The elegant supermodel sauntered into the room, eyes wide with faux innocence. She wore a gothic black and white dress and ran her hands up and down the seams. Hah. As if that impressed him.

Ever since Light Yagami had revealed himself to be Kira, five countries (specifically, Japan, Indonesia, Pakistan, Cambodia, and Taiwan) had relinquished leadership to him. Ever since then, Misa preferred to be referred to as Light Yagami's queen. That made Light Yagami want to vomit at just the idea of it. To him, to claim someone as his queen was like getting married to them, and hell would have to freeze over before he married _Misa._

"Misa Misa has missed you," she pouted, curling up against his arm. "Meetings with your analysts are always so boring."

Light sighed, still irritated by the interruption and her whining. His analyst meetings happened to intrigue him, yet he held his tongue. 

"I know, Misa. I’m _happy_ that you always put up with my meetings"

“Oh, you’re welcome sweetie!”

_Goddammit Misa._

The room was claustrophobic. It was closet-sized, hidden beneath the thick basement doors. L’s cell was located in the lower levels of the basement, far from the surface above. Far away from freedom and any chance of escaping...

Misa giggled before she pursed her lips and leaned forward to kiss him. Light Yagami pushed her away in sudden disgust.

"Leave me alone, Misa!"

"Aww! I already do. I get a lot of work now that I’m your queen! Misa is richer than ever!"

She beamed radiantly, and Light Yagami just rolled his eyes. He hadn't escaped Japan to deal with this nonsense. Hell, he didn't go up against the world-famous detective for this nonsense!

"Where are your bodyguards?"

He'd secured Misa with ten bodyguards, not including their death gods, which stood watch outside their secluded fortress. For some reason, they showed up one day after Kira took full control of Japan, and handed out Death Notes per Light’s instructions to only his most loyal and trusted followers. And for some other reason, they always enjoyed being on the surface despite the temperature outside. Ryuk explained that the sun was so bright in the human world in contrast to the shinigami realm. Light decided to let them be after that, since it wasn't like it should concern him.

Misa shrugged. "I was hoping to get you alone...but you're too busy staring at the stupid detective again."

Light Yagami glanced at L, who was sitting on the lonely prison cot. He was defeated. Tortured. Cold. Even his lithe frame seemed to be curled into itself. He was many things at the moment, but _stupid_ wasn't apart of that vocabulary.

"I can see his name," his girlfriend whispered.

That shot a wave of pure pleasure down Light's back. Then it spiked it. Caressed it. He’d been waiting to kill L. He’d been craving it for years. But something...was off? Maybe it was that Light had revealed himself as Kira, and the world took his side, not L’s. Maybe it was his craving for a trophy of his old days. Right now, L was the only trophy that he could get.

Or maybe, their battle was not over yet. Maybe it had only just begun. Light shook his head, smirking. No, that was impossible. All his cards were gone, and he had nothing to use against him. He was vulnerable, a shell of his former self…

Misa pouted. “Light! Stop zoning out! I was just asking if your eye is alright. That stupid detective is a jerk for hurting you! What do you even plan to do with that shut-in?”

Light just shrugged. His bruise finally faded a day ago, and while he was initially livid for being punched in the face, he had long since gotten over the attack. 

"When it comes to L…hundreds of corporations are bargaining for his ransom. I don't plan to give him up, but all these down payments are certainly helping our cause."

Misa giggled, ignoring the fact that her “boyfriend” ignored her question. “Oh Light, that’s wonderful!”

Ever since Light revealed to the world his identity and the capture of L, the world had erupted into chaos. Quite a few countries believed L to be dead, but the rest who believed otherwise fought for his release. Money, gold, and riches were offered up to him in exchange for the detective. Even a few criminal organizations who were wronged by L in the past attempted to sweet-talk Light into handing him over. The brunet always flashed a smile and nodded his head when confronted by all, but he made sure to give _special_ treatment towards the criminals. Give up L? A laughable request. He’d forever deny them of him. 

The dictator focused on his special little prisoner on the screen once more. L was staring up at the camera, his expression never changing even in the slightest. Light froze, for the expression in the detective’s eyes began to unnerve him.

"Maybe I should go down there," Light muttered. "Have a little chat with him concerning his behavior. At the very least I should give him a warning."

"That's good. I hate defiance. Everyone should listen to you because you know best, right?"

Light nodded. "Exactly."

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

There were no clocks in L’s prison cell. Only the phantom buzzing and pounding of his head.

L was currently trying to keep his mind off his hunger by focusing on his memories of the orphanage. If anything, his memories were the only thing keeping him sane at the moment. If he had forgotten them, he was sure he would’ve cracked by now. Just knowing that they were alive and well was all he needed to continue on. Many people wouldn’t have struck him as someone who liked children, but it was true. Whenever he got a break from a case, he would go back “home” to visit those he considered to be his little siblings. Most cases though didn’t require him to be in another country, so he would usually stay at the orphanage and work from there.

The detective narrowed his eyes in irritation. The Wammy House would be in danger if Kira found out about its existence. L had no doubt that Kira wasn’t above killing children. If he had even an idea that L had successors running around, all it would take is a few hours of torture to find their location. All because of one miscalculation.

A muffled sound snapped him out of his brewing thoughts and raised his head to stare at the iron door. He had come to recognize that sound to be one of two options over the time he had spent there. It was either the guards switching their posts or an incoming beating. Sometimes both if he was truly unlucky that day. He felt his heart race as the taps against the floor echoed louder and louder as they drew near. Finally they stopped in front of the door and the detective heard a low murmur of voices which he recognized to be the guards. The door was unlocked slowly as if the person on the other side was relishing every single twist of the lock.

The lock wailed open, and so did the door.

The God of the New World stood there in all his deceiving glory, a cocky smile on his face. The first thing L was struck by was the raging anger in his eyes, a contrast to the calm little prison building. The man’s hair was flawless as always, combed with not a hair out of place. His garments were all professional and appropriate for a dictator, a brown suit with matching trousers with a red tye and dark loafers . He strolled farther into the prison with the careful precision of a lion stalking its prey . The detective glared at the criminal with cold fury blazing in his dilated eyes. If this was Kira's way of trying to intimidate him, it was as frightening as having a child point a toy gun at him (at least he told himself that). This seemed to amuse the self proclaimed god, for the fury in his eyes dimmed.

"Kira. What a surprise. What do I owe the pleasure of you entering my living quarters?" L asked, sarcasm laced deeply into every syllable.

"I gotta say L, I kind of like it when you call me Kira. Say it again," Light joked, eyes teasing.

They weren't friends anymore, but Light was determined to force him to put his guard down. Watari (before Light killed him) always said that Light was L's soft spot...so why not try to exploit it?

L widened his eyes in mild shock, but showed no further reaction beyond that. It was as though Light’s comment had barely impressed him at all. 

"_Killer._ All these years, and you still act like a child. Tell me, how does it feel knowing you killed your own father?" he questioned.

Light Yagami just smiled, despite his growing annoyance (whether being called Killer or the comment about his father, he didn’t know). "Why would I keep him around? A father could never bow to a son."

How hypocritical. If that was the case, why was his arch-nemesis still alive even though it was evident he would never bow towards him either? L narrowed his eyes once more. It was quite unfortunate to be chained to the wall, because otherwise, he would be strangling the man right now. 

"How about your mother and your little sister? Would you have killed them too if I gave you the chance?"

"My mother might have listened, but my sister is annoying like Misa. Misa is my priority, but Sayu isn't.”

Yet another lie. While Sachiko Yagami loved both her children dearly, it was evident that she would be broken by her son committing patricide. As for the sister, from what L had seen from the cameras he had placed so long ago in the Yagami household, Light loved his sister deeply, and coddled her despite what he might’ve denied otherwise. He had a good relationship with his sister. Or at least, did.

Light Yagami's smile was cold. He stepped closer to L like a shark, as if he could see deep into L's soul. The insomniac held his gaze evenly, showing no sign of fear towards this powerful man.

"Are you trying to distract me?"

L turned away, refusing to look at the serial killer. This was not Light. Actually, Light had never even existed, it was all a ruse created by Kira. Light had been dead way before the detective even met him, and the only glimpse of him was when Kira somehow lost his memories all those months ago, before the being that was Light was killed once more. L found that to be extremely devastating because while he hated Kira down the very core of his heart, Light seemed alright. Honest, passionate, _hell_, even _optimistic_. A stark contrast to the detective, and as irritating as he was, L still loved him for it. "I have nothing to say to you. The only one worthy of knowing my thoughts is Light, and he is dead."

L held his ground, something that Light Yagami wasn’t expecting. In fact, those words were like an arrow through his heart. He knew that L had valued him as a friend once, but L, like everyone else, must have his weaknesses. The detective’s gaze was furious. Tired, weak, angry and also full of defeat and hopelessness.

"Oh, you'd be surprised what I can read from that expression," Light muttered. "There's a reason I didn't kill you. Would you like to deduce it?"

“There is an 79 percent chance that you wish to use me, a 11 percent chance you're just fucking with me…” L began, narrowing his eyes. “and a 10 percent chance you don't even know the answer yourself.”

Light forced out a smile, though L’s words stung greatly. As usual he hit the board right on the mark.

“Now why would I keep you around if I was just fucking with you or I didn’t know what to do with you?”

L shrugged.

“Who knows. Though, not many things that a psychopath does makes sense in the first place.”

Light’s breathing quickened, which would have gone unnoticed by many people. L was the exception, and took it as an opportunity to mock him further.

“Remember those F.B.I. agents who came to Japan? There’s no way you haven’t heard about them, seeing how perceptive you are of your surroundings and all. They all died about a year ago. All from heart attacks.”

The dictator froze but didn’t reply. He _won’t_ give L the satisfaction. 

“It’s a shame really. I thought Kira would be more forgiving of these men, after all they were only doing their jobs. Hunting down a murderer. Seems quite unfair that the righteous get punished, huh _Killer?_”

Light turned around, breathing meditatively with one hand around his stomach, as if pushing down the anxious bile that curled through his stomach. L bit his thumb as a pleased expression formed on his face. He had hit the mark the second time today. One more and he’d win a game of darts.

"I will give you more time," The disgruntled God of the New World muttered. "Reconsider my mercy. And maybe- just maybe- you can bargain something to save yourself."

With that Kira vengefully strode out of the room. The locks clicked shut and footsteps trickled down the thick corridor until there was only the silence that haunted the prisoner ever since he had arrived in this prison. The absence of sound only led to L’s thoughts to erupt with noise as Light’s words began to consume him.

_“Reconsider my mercy.”_

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

Light Yagami was the God of the New World, an ascending king. He was also the most wanted person in the world. Some called him a serial killer, but the righteous called him a hero. Despite knowing this fact, the detective’s words still poured through his brain.

_“Remember those F.B.I. agents who came to Japan? They all died about a year ago. All from heart attacks.”_

_“Seems quite unfair that the righteous get punished, huh Killer?”_

_“Who knows. Though, not many things that a psychopath does makes sense in the first place”_

_"All these years, and you still act like a child. Tell me, how does it feel knowing you killed your own father?"_

"I'm not a child," Light hissed to himself. "I'm a god. Funny, how L acts so desperate. Even though I'm the leader of five countries and counting- and he's talking from behind bars!"

How could such a person get to him like this? His father’s death was necessary to the new world order. It wasn’t as if Light _wanted_ to kill his father. This was the man that raised him after all, taught him right from wrong and always expected the best from him. So _why is L getting to him?_

L was his only prisoner, which was odd because usually all who he considered his enemies either ended up dead or kneeling at his feet. He had Misa's eyes, millions of followers, a follower-constructed underground facility and his own Death Note. He should have killed L. So why didn't he?

Still fuming, he patrolled the halls. Kira supporters smiled and bowed as he passed, and Light could only nod. He didn’t trust himself to speak without screaming insults towards his prisoner. It seemed that L's simple prescience was like poison.

"_God,_" a deep baritone voice murmured.

Light swiveled his head, slightly, to see his resident lawyer and follower, Teru Mikami. As usual, his gold eyes were hidden under thick plastic glasses. Despite the huge underground bunker, Mikami was dressed like he was going to a trial. Suit and tie, suitcase, down-to-business smile, all were in check.

"We must discuss the situation in the U.K. They have disagreed with your position." he stated, adjusting his glasses slightly.

"They’re just simpletons," Light muttered. "How disgraceful. Just go make an example of them."

The dictator then turned back around and began marching away, with Mikami following his quick, furious pace like an out-of-shape dog. "I know, God. I would do so, believe me.... But the prime minister has temporarily resigned. To ensure everyone's safety, their parliament has voted on a temporary proxy leader- a faceless detective. He calls himself N."

Light felt the fire rushing into his ears like static as he stopped in his tracks. _A letter._ What did it mean? "I'm sorry?"

"You heard me."

"That's impossible, he couldn't have resigned."

"Well, I guess your threats forced his hand-"

Light wanted to shove the lawyer so hard that his glasses flew off his face, leaving his jaw cracked open. However, that would demonstrate that he had a poor sense of composure and self-restraint, something not suited for any god. Instead he stood in front of Mikami, voice soft and dangerous like he could crack at any moment.

"'Proxy leader?' They think they can beat me? They think that _I_ will be temporary?"

"We can deal with it. N clearly opposes you but for now, he is silent."

"When I get to him- and I _will_\- I will cut this _'N'_ apart."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys
> 
> I know I updated pretty quickly but I had some time and inspiration and got some work done quickly. This fic won't always update as frequently, and I thank you all for your understanding.
> 
> If it isn't already evident enough, I have no fucking clue how UK politics or their system of government works. I could have looked it up, but I didn't. I'm guessing prime ministers aren't usually placed in this way, but seeing how there is a less than stable serial killer on the loose taking over countries, let's pretend N was "voted" in by emergency means through Parliament.
> 
> Also I'm changing things from canon a bit cause 1) I don't like some things Ohba did and 2) I really don't want to write in that Watari sticks L in a washing machine to bathe (It might be mentioned later as a joke though, but thats as far as it'll go for this fic)
> 
> Kudos and Comments are welcome!


	3. Demands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L learns that his successors finally made their first move. Light discusses the N situation with his supporters. He decides to go down to the prison to try to convince L to help him.

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

The fictitious clock ticked, but L’s mind was whirling.

He never knew how long he had been stuck there, but it felt like it’s been so long since he had last been visited by anyone. Or fed, for that matter. He was always given some water, but it seemed that Light intended to keep his promise to starve him into submission. His stomach growled and his head pounded in agony as he scratched his unruly hair with his pale hands in a vicious manner, frustration and anxiety oozing off of him in waves. 

In the dim light of his lonely cell, there were many times the pale detective grew irritated that he couldn't assist the world in the fight against Kira. Thankfully though, the two guards that guarded his room never seemed to keep their mouths shut. Through the conversations, the dark haired prisoner could learn many things that could well play into his favor in the future, and help him warn the remaining oppositions if that was possible. Usually it was just rumors concerning some Kira follower’s relationships, and lately L had difficulty focusing on the conversation in general, so the detective mostly tuned them out. However, this particular conversation caught the man's full attention.

"So apparently the report says that major countries such as America and Russia are standing against Kira's vision!" one guard exclaimed with worry.

"Screw them! If they don't give in eventually, they will face Kira's divine wrath!" the other man chuckled with glee. Wow. What intelligible conversation. Matsuda and Misa had more brain cells compared to these two (though when he thought about it, if he had to choose whether to hang out with those two, he would always choose Matsuda. He was sure that the happy-go-lucky officer wouldn’t try to kill him. At least not on purpose).

Actually, never mind the comment about Misa. As reluctant as he was to admit it, the idol was smart enough to trick him to bring his guard down into thinking she wasn’t a threat. On the other hand, that achievement of hers was overshadowed by the fact that she willingly blindly follows a guy around like a lost lovesick puppy even when Light himself said that he had no interest in her a few months ago. So L was going to stand by his original belief: Misa Amane was an idiot.

"True, but have you heard of the new Prime Minister of the U.K.?"

L raised an eyebrow, and shook his head to force the fatigue that had been plaguing him recently to go away and leaned as far as his chains would allow him, listening intently.

"Well, apparently it is a detective who calls himself N. The reports say that N intends to _fight_ against our almighty god!"

"Kira would never allow this! Why hasn't he executed the fool yet!?"

"Don't question the word of our god! Besides, it's hard to kill a person that doesn't show their face. Just look at the detective. He was a pain in the ass before Kira caught him!"

L smiled despite the insult (and the fact that he was curious if these two guards in particular had some cultish origins before joining Kira) and leaned back against the wall, his arms crossing around his legs. So, it seemed his successors have begun to make their move. L immediately raised the percentage to 51.9. A small feat, but a feat that would lead the way to victory.

L’s confidence screamed loud, so loud that even his anxiety couldn’t tear him down, at least not at that moment of time. Even if Light were to kill him off now, it would be useless. In the world’s eyes, L had always represented justice, and justice will prevail. Perhaps not L the person, but merely L the idea.

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

Light sat at the head of the massive, pristine office table. It was made of glassy crystal, a donation from some faraway blue-blooded aristocrat. It was just one of many hundreds of “gifts” he had received from wealthy donors, seeking to show their approval towards him as a leader. Even though he may be a world leader, a god, he was still in hiding. He was too paranoid to return publicly to Japan. Who knows what assassins would be sent after him if his enemies knew where to find him. The God of the New World may be able to take a life with a single stroke of his pen, but all it took was being in the wrong place at the wrong time or trusting the wrong person. Until the world was his, truly _his_, he was not going to take any chances. 

His most trusted supporters, dubbed “the inner circle”, sat around him, with some of the more notable ones including Teru Mikami and Kiyomi Takada. Mikami currently serves Light as his loyal right hand, the one man who truly knew his purpose and what he stood for. After Light fled from Japan with L and a few followers in tow, he knew he needed someone to confide in, one who knew and understood his ideals and would be able to work independently if the situation called for it. He found him through one of the many T.V. specials that showed support for Kira. The lawyer had impressed the brunet so much with his devotion, he immediately began to dig up everything about him. Then all it took was for one single phone call for Teru Mikami to become his. In Kiyomi’s case, he knew her ever since college. She was but one of the many girls who adored him, _swooned_ over him, _desired_ to be noticed by him. She was just better at hiding it than others, too stubborn to give up her title as “Miss To-Oh”, until Light effortlessly and carefully tore down her walls. They ended up dating for a while, at least until Light turned himself in to “save” Misa. Before leaving Japan, Light knew he’d need someone to broadcast his will out to the world. Someone who supported him. He remembered that Kiyomi was majoring in journalism. How she mentioned many times of her dream to be a reporter. It was too perfect to pass up. So, Light revealed to her who he truly was, and offered her to come with him to both finish her education and training for her to be transformed into Kira’s spokeswoman. She accepted.

His supporters smiles were so white, they were blinding. They were all definitely contestants to see who would star in the next toothpaste commercial. Misa sat right next to him, with her thin arms wrapped around his chest, and she giggled to no one in particular. She was wearing a tiny black tank top with mounds of jewelry and massive gloves. Zippers hung all over her pants, though most of them didn’t have pockets, which in Light’s personal opinion was stupid. Pants should always have pockets. He’d never understand female fashion. 

However, Misa was very quickly becoming a problem. She was hanging all over him so much that Light could see a frown form on Kiyomi’s face from across the room. At this rate, all his time sweet-talking her would be for nothing. He had to rectify this, quickly.

"Misa," Light instructed, "Go and talk to the shinigami."

"But LIGHT-"

“Please? I promise I’ll spend time with you later. This meeting will be pretty complicated, and I don’t want you to be stressed out.”

Misa blushed at his sweet tone, and scrambled out of the room. Her dozen bodyguards rushed after her. The other supporters talked among themselves softly while Kiyomi flashed Light an annoyed look. Okay so it wasn’t completely solved, but Light knew he could more than make up for it with her later. Among all of his followers in the base, only the supporters that were seated could see the death gods, which made things a whole lot easier since Light didn’t have to waste time trying to explain that no, he's not crazy whenever he gets caught talking to Ryuk.

"Alright, everyone. What intel do we have on N?"

Mikami ignored him, but not out of malice. He was writing criminals into one of the death notes Light had given his more trusted supporters. Everyone else sat into full attention, eager to be of use to Kira for the meeting so he would remember them later. They stared over their laptops, notebooks and papers, only glancing at them at occasion to clarify a statement.

"Well," Kiyomi murmured, "N began working with the CIA about a year ago not too long after Kira began to pass judgement. Actually, his first appearance was after L began his investigation on Kira.”

"What makes this N character qualified?” he pressed. “How old?" 

The others grew silent, studying their technology. Light Yagami stared around the table as if he could see into their souls. There were dozens of people at the meeting, roughly a hundred in total. Over the past months Kira had gained many followers that were more than happy to serve him, at a moment’s notice if needed to be. His growing empire seemed to have no limits in its success.

At the end of the table, nineteen-year-old Aalia Ahmed was dwarfed by her chair. Sitting near the end of the table, it was difficult to see her stormy brown eyes and tough smile, but her green hijab helped her easily stand out. Light's adversaries had found her on the coast of Pakistan. She was a young orphan who idolized him. Ever since she was young, she'd made bootleg money hacking anything she could touch. She'd been scared of him once, and thought he wouldn't have mercy on her. Usually, he wouldn’t. Though she had grown up a poor child of circumstance, she could’ve chosen to be a hard working person instead of a criminal. She was nothing but a street kid, a street kid with too much potential. In the end, that was perhaps what had saved her: potential. Right now, she was scrolling through every secure database in the world. Public Security Intelligence, FBI, Interpol....it all whizzed past her eyes in an instant.

"Intel doesn't say specifics. We’ve seen a man in a mask who _claims_ to be N, but it's possible that he’s just a proxy for the _real_ N. But what we do know is this new Prime Minister is young, and he's blown the CIA away with his prowess. He has worked in conjunction with them and Interpol, with the main goal being to track you down."

Light laughed, "Track me down? That will never happen."

A rush of anxiety flooded through Light. Why couldn't Misa be more professional, at least, like Aalia? Misa always left such an awful taste in his mouth when it came to demeanor, even if she was still just as useful as back in his early Kira days.

Why did he keep Misa by his side? Well, he had two thousand supporters at this base alone- people who had left their entire lives to go join him. He could convince all of them to get the Shinigami eyes if he wanted...but it all came down to Misa's shinigami, Rem. The second he made a wrong step with her, Rem would off him. Right now, she was his most formidable enemy. However, he supposed it wasn’t _that_ terrible with Misa. Despite her outward impression, she _did_ possess a great degree of intelligence, as shown as she first revealed herself to be the Kira doppleganger to him. It would be foolish to lose such a valuable asset to his cause. Plus he managed to call both her and _and_ Rem off from killing L, so that had to count for something, right?

"Of course he hasn't figured us out, right?” one of the newest inner-circle supporters murmured. Everyone stared at the man and he bowed his head in shame.

"I, uh, mean, we're too great to be caught. Right?"

Light really needed to get more professional supporters. His inner circle was lacking a bit when it came to character.

Aalia didn't even blink an eye. "Far from it. All our analysts have made sure of that."

The group kept typing and chattering. Suggesting quick fixes. Discussing other countries and their individual fates. Technically, Light had control of five destinations of now. Five countries. All his. One of which was his once-powerful, once righteous hometown of Japan.

"I will reclaim Japan," the former Prime Minister had stated. "This is only temporary. This criminal will go down-"

Hah. Light had killed off everyone he loved. His entire family. His entire team. In the end, the grateful "ruler" had given things up willingly. However, Light Yagami was so distracted that he'd arranged some of his most intelligent followers into five groups to control these countries in his name. What a waste. He needed to begin ruling, but unfortunately this was the time of turmoil. Right now, he was too busy worrying over N, conquering other nations and sweet-talking leaders of other countries into doing certain tasks to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything else. 

There was one thing that kept coming to mind…the man in the prison. The one with the grey eyes. L would be able to solve the enigma of N in an instant. So why not ask?

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

As usual, the descent into the lower chambers of the complex was dusty, dirty, and unsuited to a God (or a prisoner as fascinating as L, he decided after a moment). He meant to order the maids to keep the lower levels neat and tidy, but his duties have kept him from such tasks.

"Get the maids," he snapped to a guard. "Tell them to clean this up. You deserve better than to deal with the dead person smell."

She scurried off, a huge smile on her face. "Thank you, Kira!"

Light Yagami descended down the stairwell, trying to calm his aching heart. A sudden cackling made him freeze in his tracks as he recognized the voice. A shinigami with black spiky hair and grey skin floated behind him, the shark-teeth grin on his face as usual.

“What’s wrong Light? You don’t look so good.” he asked in a mock concerned tone. Thankfully, Light knew better than to trust that tone.

“I’m completely fine, Ryuk. I’m just frustrated that I have to waste my time visiting L,” Light lied, smoothly. 

“And why would you waste your time visiting a loser?”

“My advisors insist that I confide in him for advice.” Light lied again, like a liar liar pants on fire.

“Aw,” Ryuk whined, his voice turning to that of a parent baby talking to a child. “Are you worried that your widdle L hates you? ‘Cause you’re right.”

“Good,” Light murmured, ignoring the fact that Ryuk somehow knew that on a tiny subconscious level, Light did care for L’s opinion of him. “That will make it so much easier to crush him.”

“Oh? I thought it was the opposite. Wouldn’t it be easier to crush him if he cared about you instead of despising you?”

The brunet smiled gently and let Ryuk’s words fall off of him like cold water. Light was never savage. His focus has always been on what was right and if L hated him for this, then so be it….

“Love is the same as hate, Ryuk.”

Ryuk stared at him for the longest time, before raising his head up to begin chuckling. 

“That makes completely zero sense to me! Boy, you humans are so confusing and complicated! I’ll never understand you, but you do make interesting entertainment!”

“Thanks…” But Light wasn’t very thankful at all. Just the opposite. There was truth in his own words though. L used to be his friend, so there was no doubt in his mind that he was feeling deep betrayal.

As he approached the door to L’s prison, the guards stood up from a nearby table and bowed towards their leader. Light gave them a nod before unlatching the locks, pulling the door shut to step into the deep, cavernous prison cell. 

"Hello, L."

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

It was quite dark inside the cell, Light realized. If it weren't for the single lightbulb that was in the room, it was likely he would be walking blindly. He noted a dark shape of a person near the back of the prison, hunched over on a cot and chains attached to their wrists. The man’s head was ducked and he seemed to be nibbling on his fingers. Other than that, he was so still that one could believe that he was a statue. 

“L,” Light muttered. The sound of the letter sounds strange in his own mouth. “I hope you didn’t break too quickly.” 

L didn’t reply. The dictator bit his lip, trying not to sound concerned.

“How are you keeping busy in here?”

No reply. Light stepped into the room, wishing that Ryuk would go back to doing something else. The shinigami seemed quite interested in the whole situation, smirking as he got a closer look at L. Probably amused that L was giving Light the silent treatment.

Softly, silently, he scraped forward a tiny chair. It was sitting in the corner of the room and was small and metallic. Light should've paid more attention last time. If L had been able to reach this chair, he could've been able to use it as a weapon.

“Heh. Looks like you should be more careful with your toys in the future, Light-to. I think you already broke him.”

L’s body was trembling uncontrollably like a young child’s. Light felt the urge to slap him, punch him, scream at him, write down his name- anything to make him cease being in such a sad state.

“What is it now?” Light asked, leaning down so his breath was up against L’s neck and raising chills up the detective’s spine. From here he could see the sweat trailing down his face, which didn’t make sense, for while the cell lacked many things, it didn’t lack air conditioning.

Without warning, the dark haired man grabbed the serial killer’s hand and raised it to his mouth. In his shock, Light tried to pull away but L’s grip was like iron. Heart beating fast, the brunet watched as the prisoner raised his hand closer and closer to his jaws...until he froze. L studied Light’s hand with narrowed eyes and released it, disappointment settling on his face.

“I thought it was sweets…” the insomniac murmured, though there was no apologetic tone in his words.

“That’s just what you always think,” Light muttered, rubbing his hand as he forced out a smile. Even still, his eyes were so cold it was like he was staring right through L for a moment. “What are you, a cannibal?”

“Perhaps if you cease to continue starving me, then I won’t have to go to such measures.”

The former great detective’s words held no emotion in them, but his expression was unkind as he stared at the dictator before him. As Light studied the man, he could see that captivity had not been so kind to him. L seemed to be paler than usual, his eyebags darker and puffier than usual, if that was even possible, and he seemed to almost nod off once every minute, which was highly unusual. Hell, his hair seemed to have grown longer and looked even more unkempt than normal. He could barely make out the grey orbs behind that dark hair. Light tried his best to ignore the dark bruises on the detective’s skin, forcing an unknown emotion down as he figured out how to respond.

Light muttered. “Honestly, you act like you have the moral high ground. It’s my right to push some sense into you, and you need to wisen up and listen to it.” 

“What happened to Aiber and Wedy?”

“They were judged and tried, as all criminals should be.” 

“In other words, you killed them. I thought as much,” L sighed as his fingers tapped against his cot with a faint expression of regret, before looking back up at him with calculating eyes. “The first few months you started killing, a woman named Naomi Misora disappeared shortly after her fiance’s death. I know for a fact Kira had something to do with her disappearance, but I want to hear the details from you.”

“My, that’s a name I haven't heard in awhile,” Ryuk rasped, amusement lining his tone. “It sounds to me that he knew her personally, so what are you going to tell him?”

Light frowned, trying to ignore his reddening face, ignoring the way L’s gaze softened a fraction of an inch when he spoke that pesky woman’s name. “What you don’t seem to understand is that I don’t have to talk to you at all, L! I don’t have to tell you anything! You keep acting so condescending, when I’m the one who has you locked up! I can’t believe how idiotic you are, even in here!” 

“So, she figured out an important clue about Kira, and you killed her for it. I figured that would be the case. However, I want to know how she died and where her body is. The least you can do is deliver her remains to her parents so she could be given a proper funeral.” L continued, ignoring Light’s retort.

Why should he? It wasn’t like she mattered in the big picture. She tried to hunt him down in the first place, she didn’t even deserve to be buried. Light felt his anger rise as L continued to speak in that sad soft voice, all for a woman who didn’t even _matter_. Yet he forced himself to speak in an even, controlled tone, even though he really felt like throwing something at the moment.

“Again, L. Keep being condescending. Let’s see how long you’ll last in here.” 

L’s eyes flashed dangerously for a second and Light was taken aback by the murderous glint. Yet it was gone as quickly as it had came. The detective’s tone hardened, much to Light’s rising ire.

“What do you want, _Killer_?”

“I want you to stop being so close-minded.” 

“I could say the same for you. However, you came here for a reason, one that doesn’t concern how you view me. What is it?”

Ryuk chuckled as this exchange continued, the brunet’s frustration pulsing off of him like waves.

“I wanted to see what you were like in here,” Light muttered, trying to stay emotionless. “You’ve changed a lot already… Or maybe you were always like this, and I never really paid attention to it.” 

“Betrayal can do _wonders_ for a person, Killer,” the prisoner replied bitterly. “Imprisonment can do _wonders_. And I _know_ for a fact you have cameras in my cell, so there was no need for you to come here.”

“Well, you’re still the same. You’re still observant.” 

Light was starting to feel a heat striking through him, deep, low, like he needed to smack someone. Why was this prisoner’s expression doing this to him?! He was nothing now, just a relic of the past. Out of frustration, the brunet stood up and turned to leave before stopping at the door upon hearing Ryuk’s laugh. He blinked.

God dammit. He almost forgot his purpose for being here. Damn L and his distracting questions.

Giving an annoyed huff, the man then turned back and approached his prisoner, stopping at the foot of his bed.

“I have a proposition for you. I need you to-”

L raised a hand, silencing Light due to surprise. L glanced up, a blank expression on his face as the dictator looked down in confusion.

“I would like some cheesecake...”

“Wait, what-”

“And a smoothie.”

Light watched him, annoyance and irritation slowly being exposed as the seconds passed.

“I don’t think you are in a position to be asking for favors, _Lawliet_.”

“Oh, it wasn’t a favor.” L nonchalantly replied, as if he wasn’t just threatened. “It was a demand. More specifically, a necessity. How am _I_ supposed to get any work done without those items? That is, if you want me to work for you in the first place. As you can see, I am currently experiencing side effects due to the lack of sugar in my system. I’m quite irritated of being without sweets for awhile. So if you want me to consider even being a little helpful, usually getting me some would be a wise first step. That is, if I choose to help you in whatever you need me to do. However, until I get them, I won’t even listen to what you have to say.”

With that said, L promptly collapsed on the bed, throwing the covers over him. He then shooed at the brunet captor.

“I would appreciate for them to both be strawberry flavored, _please_.”

This statement caused the shinigami to burst out cackling as the dictator stared at L completely dumbfounded.

Light Yagami was the God of the New World. So naturally, he had trouble trusting people. His mom left. His sister left. His father left. So did the detectives. Matsuda. As a child, he'd always kept to himself. But that didn't mean he was never lonely. L didn't know him. Yet somehow, even from a prison cell, he knew exactly how to manipulate.

His heart was thumping in his chest and his body shook. Light Yagami could only see red when he laid eyes upon the dark haired detective. Ryuk obviously sensed his mood, and left in a hurry in order to avoid a rant from Light. As hilarious as this situation was, being on the receiving end of his rants was _not_ as funny.

“I’ll consider it. Don’t expect it.” he managed to say in an even tone.

Light’s clenched his fists. It took all of his focus to turn around and leave that awful room. Light grabbed the chair and walked to the door in silence, trying to ignore the way his pulse was rising, and resisting the urge to pummel the detective right there and then. He could feel L’s dark eyes bore into his back.

He had to focus. He had to ignore it. 

_Click-click-click_. He pulled the locks shut and pressed the metal chair up against the door. One of the guards passed him. He was a gruff individual with hair like a mangy dog, and his eyes were beady like a bug’s.

"How did your meeting go, Kira?"

"Fine. Please leave this chair here."

_“Stay calm. Don't think.”_

Light Yagami walked up the steps in a trance, breathing hard and raucously. But his mind was shrieking like a banshee. How did L get to him? After all this time, too! N was his focus. So why was he so damn invested? He was botching his own cause, and he had to take a step back and remember what the detective had become. 

L was pathetic. He couldn't hurt Light Yagami anymore.

A small section of Light's brain remembered L as a friend. He'd once watched him eat sweet after sweet with such an obsession, it wouldn't surprise him if L was diagnosed with diabetes. Of course he needed sugar, that's all he knew how to function. No, what he needed was actual food first. Yet L’s arrogance beat at Light's brain. After all, Light was a god, not a child.

"I could've killed him!" Light growled. "I could've killed him!"

"Killed who?"

Light had reached the top of the staircase. Kiyomi stood nearby, files in hand. Thick mascara lined her eyes and her voluptuous figure was covered with a white sweater. A brow was raised as she stared at him in confusion.

"Oh, ah...killed no one."

If he asked any of his advisors, they'd all tell him to kill L immediately. He should, because though the prisoner pretended to be justice, in actuality it was the opposite. Kira was justice. L was a criminal. There was no question about what Light should do. Yet, he couldn’t kill him...L was his opposite, his equal, the other side of the same coin. There was simply no other man who could challenge and excite him the way the detective had. It would be a waste to just _kill_ the detective, not to mention dreadfully boring. If anything, perhaps one day L could be his right hand man, once he understood his way of justice was correct. Right now though, that dream seemed so far and unreachable...

Light chatted with Kiyomi for a few minutes- mindless prattle about the decisions in South America and the Middle East. She then excused herself, having to go prepare for her next broadcast. Finally he managed to escape to his own room. 

Misa was there, waiting for him and somehow he'd convinced her to leave him alone. The walls were painted a sleek shade of red. There were two plush couches, facing each other. Each one was turned precisely, right between facing the other couch and facing a dark computer that sat on a desk in the corner. This computer desk, with the lack of any fireplaces or televisions, was certainly the centerpiece of the room. 

Secure, intimate Skype meetings. Light's hackers ensured that. That was what the computer was mainly used for these days. When his supporters set it up, they thought it was charming. Instead, in bed every night, Light was reminded of countless leaders with voices like broken glass who made him want to beat his head in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys in this fic Naomi is still dead. I know how you feel, cause I love her too. Maybe in the next one she'll be alive.
> 
> And boy do these guys have complex feelings. During the investigation L, while knowing full well Light was Kira, still viewed him as a friend. I personally believe that in this fic he felt like their "friendship" was betrayed because Kira didn't kill him when he won (and kind of dragging his reputation in the dust while keeping L as his trophy), as fucked up as that is. Also he killed Watari and the investigation team, so that's a major no no. Light lowkey does care about L even if he's a narcissistic serial killer, but I guess his pride keeps him from fully expressing it. So it just leads to bitter feelings between the two.
> 
> One thing I'm excited about is the introduction of Aalia, our OC. She was initially created by my original co-author (who is no longer writing this with me unfortunately), but I've taken some liberties with her character. The first draft of Aalia was that she was Pakistani, but upon doing further research about 95% of Pakistans population are Muslim. I thought it would be a great trait to give to her, so thats my addition to her. She will become an important character in later chapters, so I hope you all will adore her as much as I do.
> 
> Kudos and Comments are always welcomed! They help encourage me to write faster!


	4. Icarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light becomes frustrated when he's unable to uncover anything about N. He notices L's failing health and decides to do something about it. Light also recalls the day he and L were still friends, but their battle was coming to a close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyho~! After several years we're finally moving onto some new stuff! To all my readers, thank you so much for your patience. Please enjoy the chapter!

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

For the next few days, Light was constantly distracted by the swarm of new followers into his building, which was good yet insufferably annoying. It seemed like each one required his additional attention even though there were plenty of other people that could assist them. Such things were the downside of being the God of the New World.

Additionally, three more countries fell. Vietnam, Malaysia, and Myanmar. They were all small territories, and mostly disregarded by the rest of the world, but every piece was necessary in creating a utopia. His new world was truly coming to be, and it was glorious. Well as glorious as it could be with both Misa and Ryuk badgering him. Misa was easy to deal with, Ryuk though? Not so much. He nearly broke down the day a large group of shinigami all came down with the sole purpose of finding out what it was about the human world that amused Ryuk to no end and intrigued Rem to be drawn towards it. He already had his hands full with _two_ shinigami, he didn’t need a whole parade. Sadly, the squatters seemed to be here to stay. So he took their notebooks in place of actual rent. Thankfully a lot of them seemed to stick with their own assigned humans, which was fine with him.

While this was all going on, he had some of his people look for his family and the officer that accompanied them in fleeing Japan. Light was beyond furious when he learned that Matsuda took his mother and his sister away like an idiot with no thought in his mind that someone could take _them_ hostage and use them to blackmail Kira into submission. However, killing the officer might bring them into even more danger and leave them completely out in the open to where even his enemies could find them, so he restrained himself from doing so. Someone had reportedly spotted Matsuda in France but it turned out to be a false lead. It was like he'd vanished off the face of the Earth, and that truly made him concerned. 

His assistants also still tracked the strange N character, but there was no news. Nothing, not even a scrap of information was found that could tell them more about the prime minister. Considering they had sources all over the world, this was just too unbelievable. The only other thing that they did find about about N in particular was that along with the CIA he also had some ties to the FBI. They also did uncover that along with N, a person known as “M” had some ties with both organizations. However, there was also evidence to suggest that M schmoozed on the side with several criminal organizations, specifically ones Kira was still unable to take down. There was little information on both N and M, yet Light felt like it was too much of a coincidence to _not_ be connected. What’s even worse, the little extra data his informants had gave him felt too much like a nice wrapped little present, like the info was purposely leaked out.

Nevertheless, it was impossible to completely conceal one's identity. L managed to pull it off for years, and had the world chasing their own tails trying to figure out who he was. But that was before Kira came along. And like L, N will have his own downfall.

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

Light Yagami stood in the surveillance room like a statue, gazing up at the sickly, skeletal-like figure on the screen. For the past two weeks, whenever he had time to observe his prisoner, L seemed to get worse and worse. Just a few days ago he had watched the detective go from getting up from bed only to fall back down from dizziness to being unable to get up at all. The scrawny man could only lay there, shivering for what little warmth his own body could produce. As he watched, he saw the fire that remained in L’s eyes grow dimmer and dimmer. The guards random attacks didn’t help much either. Light was about ready to go down there and tell them to leave the prisoner alone. He should’ve done it much sooner, but L pissed him off the last time he visited, and his piling work as god made it completely slip his mind.

L _was_ truly sick. Maybe it was sugar loss, or being famished in general. Either way, L’s paling complexion and growing sickness was more than just an act. He could die at this rate.

There was a knock at the door and Light turned to see Mikami enter the room with papers in hand and his glasses flashing. There was the familiar grim expression on his face, one that irritated Light to no end.

"Excuse me, God. There's been some new updates in America-"

"Not now," Light interrupted. "There's something I have to take care of."

He took a deep breath and with faint reluctance, he left the room without another word, much to Mikami’s disappointment at being brushed off. Then again, it was probably relief as well, since he would be able to delay being the bearer of bad news.

_Tick_

_Tick_

_Tick_

The dictator clearly remembered when L still held great power over the entire world. Hell, it wasn’t even that long ago, just roughly two months when the great detective’s reign had ended. And he remembers where it all started...after they caught Yotsuba’s Kira.

Rem managed to switch the notebooks while in the car with Higuchi at the very last second, right before the police cornered him. To this very day, L still had no clue how Kira killed, and Light would like it to stay that way.

So how did Light Yagami get his memories back? Simple. L had later allowed him to return home to his family for one night, having no proof that he was Kira but still not willing to let him completely out of his grasp. It was all that was needed for Rem to slip the death note into his room for him to find, and a pen to write a single name in the notebook, and the rest was history.

Well, he supposed there was more to the story than that. A few days after Kyosuke Higuchi’s death, Light was permitted to be able to return to college, thanks to the pressure set on L by the rest of the task force. Light was nineteen years old. He needed to finish his education. The Kira case shouldn’t put a hold on his life. All plausible reasons, those which L couldn’t refuse. After long negotiations, L permitted Light Yagami to return to To-Oh University on the condition that he would be escorted in and out of the school by a police officer, which was the best deal Light could ever get. The detective initially wanted to set up cameras throughout the school to spy on him, but Light’s father adamantly refused, saying that if L wanted to watch his son he would have to go to the university himself. 

Which L did. He came to the school as often as he could during its schooling hours and followed Light around. Somehow, he made his schedule match Light’s as closely as possible, with slight differences. Though they might not have every class together, the insufferable detective made sure they would pass each other often in the hallways.

As incentive as L was, still, he couldn’t keep an eye on him _all_ the time. Light took this opportunity to memorize criminal’s faces and names and write as many of them down as he could in these few, short moments.

In fact, Light was just zipping up his bag after putting away the death note when he saw the familiar mess of dark hair exit the building. Placing on a false smile, the brunet picked up his bag and stride forward, stopping just in front of the man.

“Hey Ryuga!”

The one person who was a complete thorn at his side just stared at him, his dark eyes like deep pools that could just draw a person in. By his side was a small black bag. Light glanced at the dark areas of skin below the detective’s optics and gave a faux worried frown.

“God, you look awful! Have you been getting enough sleep?”

“Very funny, Light,” “Ryuga” replied flatly, before trudging past him. “Your sense of humor needs work.”

Light gave a hearty laugh and sauntered alongside him. “You got me there. Maybe you should teach me some good jokes.”

To the outside eye, Light Yagami and Hideki Ryuga appeared to be very good friends, ones with contrasting personalities and appearances, Beneath the surface however, was an epic battle between two geniuses, with two different ideas of how the world should work. The winner of this battle will be granted the right to determine the direction the world would go in and to be considered _true_ justice. The loser on the other hand, would die. And Light Yagami was very close to winning the game, if not practically.

All these thoughts were going through his head as he walked alongside L, a malicious grin hidden behind his kind smile. For not only did Rem return the death note to him, she also gave Misa’s death note back to her, along with the eyes. The idol only had to show up discreetly on campus once to view the detective through those all-seeing eyes. She told him L’s name. L’s _true_ name. 

_L Lawliet_. How arrogant L was, using part of his true name as an alias. Yet it was quite intelligent too, because never in a million years would Light have guessed that his first name was just a single _letter_ of the English alphabet.

So why hasn’t he killed L yet? The circumstances were perfect, no one would be able to prove that he killed the detective or even was Kira, it was now or never. The problem was...he hadn’t figured how L would die yet. Sure he could use the standard heart attack; it was practically Kira’s trademark. But would that be truly satisfying? Of course he could make the reason for L’s death a heart attack, but what about the events leading up to it? He could get him in a car accident, have a sniper shoot him in his legs, have someone stab him in his gut...there were so many options. Normally, he wouldn’t consider himself a sadist, but L had really been a pain in the ass the entire time. Plus, he had to consider Watari. Misa still didn’t get the chance to see the old man’s name yet, and it was imperative that she did. There was no telling what he was capable of if L died. 

But what could he do? As much as he wanted to, _all of the above_ wasn’t an answer. L would die way before he could be completely satisfied, and Light didn’t like doing things half-assed. So what _should_ he do?

“Light. You’re about to run into a pole.”

The brunet’s eyes widened as he dodged the incoming object, turning to look at L with an embarrassed expression.

“Thanks. Sorry, I guessed I was lost in thought.” he laughed, rubbing the back of his head.

L stared at him, a disbelieving look written all over his face.

“Really? I never would’ve guessed,” L deadpanned. “Are you capable of walking without running into anything?”

_“God I want to punch him so badly.”_

Light smiled, as if the comment didn’t hurt his pride at all. “Sorry, you seem a bit grumpy this morning.”

“Does it have to do with...” he leaned closer to L’s ear and lowered his voice, his warm breath tickling the edges. “...the case?”

L sighed, kicking a small pebble into the freshly cut lawn. “No, it’s a little childish actually.”

“Well, what is it? You can tell me, I won’t laugh.” the brunet promised, pressing forward.

“Well...are you good with poetry?”

Light stopped in his tracks, completely befuddled. “Wait, what does that have to do with this conversation?”

L shook his head, as if Light was an ignorant child unaware of the problems of the world. “I’ve been taking a music class lately, and I’m completely fine with playing the notes on the piano, but the professor wanted me to try adding _lyrics_ to the melody. I’m wondering if you’ve written any poems down or are at least _willing_ to write one so I could use it to get her off my ass.”

For the longest time, Light just stared at him, just stunned into silence as L bit his thumb, waiting for an answer.

“Wait...you play the piano?! You’re a musician?!”

“Technically it’s just one of my hobbies, but I suppose you would say I am one.”

There was a long pause before Light burst into laughter. He wrapped his arms around his stomach as he completely lost it, tears dripping down from his eyes. L glared at him as the brunet finally regained control of himself and began wiping the tears out of his sight.

“Glad you think my predicament is so funny, Light.”

“No no...it's not that…_hah_...it's just that I never thought you could play the piano, it surprised me there.”

“Have you ever _heard_ the saying, ‘don’t judge a book by it’s cover’?'' L sighed as Light stood up glancing down at the bag before looking back up at the insomniac. 

“Do you think I could listen to you play sometime? I mean...if it's alright with you of course.”

L’s eyes narrowed as they assessed the brunet, trying to find his angle. When he found none, he nodded before taking out a small notepad and a pen. 

“First the lyrics please. It’s a sad melody, and for the theme I was thinking of the Greek myth of Icarus.”

“Greek myths huh? Why do you want to sing about that one in particular?”

“Oh, I relate to it.”

To this Light just stared at L in disbelief.

“Ryuga, that myth is about Icarus making wax wings, which melted when he flew too close to the sun and fell to his death.”

“Yeah. That’s going to be me.”

Okay. Clearly L was having some sort of existential crisis. And since Light was playing the part of a good friend who's trying to prove his innocence, surely he should help L with that, right? So, like a good, clearly stable friend, Light led L over to a bench and sat down with him. He looked right into his eyes, and clasped his hands together. He noted with faint interest that from this distance he could make out a silver shade in the detective’s dark eyes.

“Ryuga. Are you alright? What makes you relate to that myth?” he asked with fraudulent concern.

“Light please don’t act like I need to see a therapist,” L huffed, lifting his legs onto the bench and leaning them against his chest, placing the notepad and writing utensil back into his bag. “It’s just the truth. One day my arrogance will get the better of me, I’ll go against a foe too strong for me, and then I’ll fall to my death.”

_“You already have,”_ Light thought, but instead opted with: “You shouldn’t think that way, Ryuga. You’re going to be around for a long time.”

“In a way, it will happen to Kira as well,” he mused, looking away to stare at nothing. Light’s eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch before returning to their normal faux concerned state.

“Whether it's today or tomorrow, against me or another adversary, Kira will underestimate his opponent and fall like Icarus. He’s too arrogant, too sure of himself, too cocky...just like me. And in many ways, it has been both our greatest strengths. However this will not last forever, because this arrogance is like a double edged sword. Both L and Kira’s hubris will eventually stab them in the back, and we’ll fall from grace. It’s just the way of being mere mortals, I suppose.”

Outwardly, Light appeared thoughtful towards this theory, but inwardly he was fuming. Fall from grace? He must be joking, or on some kind of cracked up sugar high. Light knew that Kira’s supporters were growing each and every day. More and more of his followers were beginning to crawl out from the shadows to voice their approval of him. Of his ideal world. All sorts of people were drawn to him and his cause, from the common people to the wealthy. His reign was only just beginning, while L’s was coming to a close.

“The way you say it makes it sound like L and Kira could be unlikely friends.” he teased, prodding for a weakness.

“Yes, perhaps we would have.”

Taken off guard, Kira could only stare at L in astonishment at his sudden and abrupt honesty. The World’s Greatest Detective twiddled his thumbs, as the God of the New World for once in his life didn’t have a single card up his sleeve, a remark to make, or even a plan to bend all to his will. He gazed at the lithe man as if he was seeing him, _really_ seeing him for the first time. L turned his head back to Light, his gaze sharp, wide and unwavering. He leaned forward, biting his fingernails as he stared at his suspect with a peculiar look in his dilated eyes.

“Can I tell you a secret, Light?”

Light did his best not to gulp. “Sure, what is it?”

“I never actually cared about justice,” L confessed. “Well, that's not entirely correct, I suppose. In the beginning, I did enjoy solving cases just for the pure sake of helping others find peace. I especially liked seeing their faces whenever someone who was going to originally get off for a crime got what they deserved instead.”

His eyes dimmed as he got lost in memories unreachable to even an aspiring god.

“But then, it just started to drag on. Case after case came in, and after a while they all started to blend together. Repetitive. Unchallenging. Boring. A couple of times I could even predict who was responsible before glancing over the data, because that’s how bad it was, how predictable the criminals were becoming. I stopped taking on just any kind of cases, and instead focused on only those that seemed “fun” and “interesting”. I started to see justice itself as a game. How long till I catch the guilty? What’s the minimal amount of resources I could use to take them down? How many laws could I get away with breaking to catch the bad guy? I only cared about winning the game, and I will use whatever means to reach that goal, it didn’t matter to me whether someone got hurt or not. In many ways, I sometimes have trouble seeing what separates me from Kira.”

Light’s eyes widened more and more as L went on, focusing on every single word, every single syllable as if it were gospel. For so long, he saw the detective as a self-righteous hypocrite who acted like he was above everyone because he had essentially started to represent the law. Not because he abided by it, but he was so good at his job, people started to turn a blind eye to his less than orthodox methods. Seriously, _illegal_ surveillance, _illegal_ imprisonment? His own father may work on the same side of the law as L, but when morals came in they were completely different. Light knew beforehand L _only_ started to act against Kira because the case was interesting, and Interpol had requested it of him. Yet, to hear L admit that he was just as vile, just as crooked as what he claimed his foe was, was definitely shocking and something else.

The serial killer pretended not to feel the small flash of childlike joy when L admitted he saw their battle as a little game as well.

“L…”

L shook his head and stood up from the bench,grabbing his bag as he went. Light didn’t stop him, or even ask if the scrawny man still needed help with his supposed “lyric problem”, too confounded to react. As he left, the detective mumbled one final thing, unaware that Light could still make out every syllable he spoke.

“It’s ironic...had circumstances been different, L and Kira could conquer the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the people wondering why L was being straight up honest to Light about his morals, don't worry. L just wanted to be a little honest about himself to his friend/nemesis, at least once before he died. 
> 
> I decided to add in that little tidbit of L playing music on the side, but it has a purpose. It's definitely not just because I wanted to flesh him out a little bit more (though that is a tiny part of the reason).
> 
> Also if you look closely, you can see the exact moment Light falls for L <strike>but he still doesn't know it yet lol.</strike>  
<strike>L: Hello yes I'm a bastard without any kind of morals</strike>  
<strike>Light, shaking and already on his knees pulling out a ring: That's cool</strike>
> 
> As always please comment and leave a kudos. They help me with writing.


	5. Kitsune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light decides to try to bargain with L while getting him something to eat. Meanwhile, L has a strange fever dream that speaks more towards his current situation than he may care to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative title: What Does the Fox Say?

_“...had circumstances been different, L and Kira could conquer the world.”_

Ls words echoed throughout Light’s mind as his foot tapped against the floor impatiently. He was currently in his room, attempting to do some work on the computer but failing miserably due to distracting thoughts of L’s condition. For a while now, he had mulled over several things that included L’s starvation, his request, and his annoying flippant attitude. L was not going to get cheesecake or a smoothie, he had eventually decided. The noirette got on his nerves too much to deserve something like that. However, the brunet would give him a proper meal, specially made by the kitchen staff. The detective needed some actual food in his diet, and what better way to prepare it than by his world-class chefs?

So Light had phoned the kitchen and told the chef to whip up some takikomi gohan. And since he was so kind, L could also have a small slice of matcha cake as a special treat, just so he might be more compliant towards his request. He _hoped_ L would be more compliant at least.

That was twenty minutes ago. Light knew it would take some time before it was ready, but the thought of meeting with L once more made him concern. Antsy. The detective had looked so ill the last time he had seen him on the cameras. And the worst part was, Light didn’t get any _satisfaction_ out of it. Instead, worry only clawed at his heart and at his head, and he could barely focus on the computer documents in front of him for more than two seconds at a time. He wanted to hit his head against the wall. Damn L! Even when locked up behind bars, he finds a way to distract him, to foil Kira from doing his work properly! Placing his hands together in a clasp, he placed his head against them, brooding darkly as he stared at the door from across the room.

Meanwhile, a server pushed a tray table down the hall, a white cloth covering the surface. The man was being quick but careful not to spill any of the food the great lord Kira had requested of the kitchen. Despite what most everyone thought, Kira didn’t personally screen for everyone who entered the secret base. Most who were given the right to be placed there were usually either recommended by the inner circle or directors (who were approved by the god of course) at other Kira agencies around the world. Not everyone had a chance to catch a glimpse of the God of the New World, much less get up close and personal with him. The young server felt his heart race with excitement and nervousness as he hurried along in the white halls, dodging incoming followers as he went along his way. 

Somehow, his excitement quickly boiled down to dread and anxiety as he got closer and closer to the leader’s room. For some strange reason, all of his instincts were telling him to _stop_ walking towards Kira’s room. No, they were _strongly insisting_ that he turned around and left right this minute. The server gulped and shook his head, telling himself its was just nervous jitters for being able to meet Kira. 

After a few more minutes, the server had finally reached Kira’s room. Now he was peering up at the dark metal doors with trepidation. The dark vibes he had sensed earlier seemed to be the most concentrated in this room. That was _definitely_ a bad sign. He probably kept Kira waiting too long. Tentatively, he lightly knocked once on the metal door before flinching away his hand as if he touched a hot surface.

“Uh-this is-um-you’re food is here Lord Kira-sir!” Flawless.

“Come in. It’s unlocked.” a cool and calm voice called out.

_“Oh he doesn’t sound mad at all. Yeah it was probably all just my imaginat-ahahaha nope.”_

As soon as the server had opened the door, he was met with the burning gaze of Kira’s eyes which definitely had the power to drill a hole through his head. His hands were still clasped together in front of his mouth, and the server could swear he could see the wrathful vibes oozing off the God of the New World. Inwardly, he said a prayer to another god he worshipped. He had a good life.

“Y-your food, sir.”

Kira acknowledged him with a slight nod, but with no change in his demeanor. “Thank you. Please leave it here and go.”

Didn’t have to tell him twice. As soon as the brunet gave him permission, the server turned tail. He didn’t ask why his leader was mad. That would be the equivalent of him waving a giant sign around that said “kill me I'm an idiot”. When his coworkers asked him that same night what it was like meeting the great God of the New World face to face, he answered “terrifying”.

Once the attendant left, Light sighed before getting out of his chair and walking over to the tray table to study it. The food seemed to still be hot and in good condition, so it was passable he supposed. He glanced at the tablecloth with a frown. _Way_ too fancy. Light definitely _wasn’t_ here to impress L. Even if he was, his mere _presence_ should suffice as “impressive” for now. He carefully picked up the food and left the room, leaving the tray table by itself.

It was time to meet with his nemesis.

_Tick_

_Tick_

_Tick_

_“...Where am I?”_

_“Am I...floating?”_

_“Who am I?”_

These were all questions that ran through the dark haired man’s mind as he watched a small figure trug forward through the dark space below. The small child appeared to be well dressed for cold, since he had on a heavy tan winter coat on, and a white scarf was wrapped around his neck, almost hiding his face from view. Two large dilated eyes peered out at the nothingness around him, never blinking and unreadable. The child's pale complexion seemed to glow against the messy hair that curled against his rosy cheeks.

_“Who is that?”_

_“Is that...me…?”_

Suddenly, he was that little boy. The child stopped and looked left and right as if he were waiting to cross a road, before stumbling along his merry way. Finally, he reached his destination: an elderly ash tree. It’s thick trunk was even wider than the child’s own height, and its twisting, winding branches seemed to lift up in the thick clouds in the endless grey sky. Behind the boy’s scarf, a small smile formed on his face as he reached out a bare hand towards the tree.

“What are you doing?”

The boy turned around to see a large (at least in the child’s eyes at least) red fox staring down at him with intelligent brown eyes. The fox's stunning scarlet coat was a strong contrast compared to the snowy woodland area around them, and while pretty, it was a great red flag that this animal didn’t belong here. Also, the fox’s eyes unnerved him somehow. They seemed _too_ astutive for him to be comfortable with. The longer the fox stared at the boy, the more intimidated he became. 

Still, the boy was polite. He was told to always be when meeting new people. Then again, he was also told to be wary of strangers. So, he’ll play it safe and follow the two rules simultaneously.

“Hello…” he mumbled, placing his hands inside his jacket pockets and hiding his face as much as he could inside his scarf, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the animal.

The fox chuckled, a rich baritone erupting from its vocal chords. “You look like you’re about to run. Don’t worry, I don’t bite.”

While his tone may have initially put him at ease, the look in his eyes was anything but friendly. The boy really didn’t want the fox around anymore. So, like a rational human being who wanted to convey that they wished to be left alone, the child picked up a nearby rock and threw it at the fox. The animal veered quickly to the left, easily dodging it, and shot the boy a sharp glare before switching back to its usual calm state. In the least amount of words to say, the fox _wasn’t_ very amused by it. Still, the animal wasn’t about to let up in its trickery just yet, even if this kid _was_ being a little shit.

“Now that's not very nice. I thought we were friends.” the fox purred, swishing its tail side by side. “Is this how you treat all of your friends?”

Since when was this animal his friend? He had never seen him before in his life, and even if he had met the fox before, he would never be friends with him because he was sketchier than a white van rolling up to his neighborhood with a sign on the side that said “Free candy! Just step inside” complete with some badly drawn smiley face. The boy shook his head, stepping closer to the tree for comfort.

“You’re _not_ my friend.”

The fox's eyes gleamed in dark delight as he stepped forward in retort to the boy’s actions. “Of course we’re friends. _You’re_ the person who said that I was your very first one, after all.”

The boy’s dark eyes narrowed in confusion, and he tilted his head slightly. That...did sound familiar somehow. Yet for the life of him he couldn’t remember the details of the exchange. Still, the child was not about to give in to this obviously untrustworthy fox.

“You’re not my friend.” he insisted, patting the tree once more in emphasis. “_This_ is my friend.”

“Oh?” said the fox, then suddenly he was right next to the boy, tail brushing against his body like a cats. The boy bristled, because not only was this godforsaken animal now in his personal bubble, everything about this creature screamed “_danger!_”. He glanced toward the pile of rocks and sticks on his side. Thankfully, he had plenty of ammo to dish out if things went south. The fox chuckled in delight at the boy’s discomfort, the power of its gaze never once ceasing in intensity.

“_What_ friend? Oh, you mean that _dying_ tree right there?”

The boy turned and his mouth gaped in alarm at the sight of the once powerful and ancient tree alit with bright burning blaze. As he was transfixed with horror, the tree’s brown bark quickly darkened to black as the flames licked the sides, making their way towards the center of the tree slowly. Branches slowly fell off one by one, falling to the snowy ground as they burned until they were a little more than ash. The boy turned to the smirking fox, eyes stretched so wide the grey was evident for all to see.

“What are you doing?! Stop it right now!” he yelled, before yelping in terror as he leaped to the side before one of the burning branches could fall on him. He fell on his face in the snow, the severe cold on his face and torso a sharp contrast to the severe heat at his back.

“I don’t think I will.” the fox chortled. “That tree was old and useless anyways. You _deserve_ some better friends like me, _**don’t you think?**_”

The boy sat up as he stared back at his tree, tears filling up in his eyes. No, he would _not_ cry. If he did, the fox would win. Yet he couldn’t stop the droplets from spilling out and falling down his pale face. The fox’s vile sneer spread even wider at the child’s pain, leaning down at the boy for the sole purpose to unnerve him. Before the child’s eyes, he saw more and more tails spill out from behind the fox’s head. The fox bared his teeth, revealing bloody razor sharp fangs. The boy couldn’t move. He was stunned with terror. Only one thought was in his mind.

_“Monsters get devoured by other monsters.”_

“And, since you’re such a good friend, you wouldn’t let me starve, will you? So hurry up _**and become my next meal.**_”

The fox lunged forward. The boy screamed. L woke up.

_Tick_

_Tick_

_Tick_

Light stood outside of L’s cell, hesitation taking over his body as he fretted how he should go about this. Thankfully, there weren’t _too_ many people walking around at this hour, and those who were didn’t question why he was carrying food around. Which was good, because he wouldn’t know how to explain it if he got caught. He doubted they would be less than pleased if they saw their beloved god catering to what they considered to be a low life criminal. A _sinner_. And in many ways, they were right. L shouldn’t even be alive right now. The only reason he was still breathing right now was due to the friendship they once had, the keyword being _had_. There was no doubt in Light’s mind that right now L didn’t want anything to do with him. Yet, perhaps with gentle persuasion, the detective could ideally be coaxed over to his side. Yes, the more he lingered over it, the more the idea of L at his side, bantering with him like the old days as his pale hands delicately wrote down names in the death note appealed to him. Yes, the dream _did_ sound far fetched, but it didn’t hurt to try, right? Encouraged by this new plan, Light took a deep breath and began to punch in the code to the panel that kept the door locked. He placed his hand on the panel that would read his handprint, and he waited for a tiny beep and the green light to appear. Gulping nervously, the God of the New World finally grabbed onto the latch and pulled, swinging the iron door open, before stepping into the room.

Here goes nothing.

The first thing he noticed was that the detective was laying on his side on the cot, legs curled up against his chest. The second was a slow rise and fall of his chest. He was fast asleep. While this may be normal for about any other person (it was pretty late in the night after all), this was absolutely unthinkable for the insomniac detective. Not once during Light’s imprisonment had he seen L asleep, and the only time he could think of where L would have the chance to rest his eyes was when _Light_ had fallen asleep. Even still, the detective was always up before Light even finished his REM cycle. 

He recalled the one time he had seen the man sleeping. It was when he was fleeing the country with a few followers and L. One of his supporters was a rich Japanese businessman who was more than happy to lend them his private jet. Another of his followers who Light took with him was a doctor, and kept L carefully sedated the entire way from Japan to their secret base in Pakistan, all while dealing with his injuries brought on by Kira’s attack. The difference between then and now was that then L was on drugs, so he had no choice but to sleep it off. Light hadn’t seen a good reason to keep him on the sedatives when the detective was placed in his cell, so there was no reason for him to sleep.

Maybe L somehow managed to match his sleep cycle with Lights, and that’s why he caught him just now.

Even still, it was certainly a treat to watch the detective while he was asleep. There just was somehow a sharp contrast from when he was awake. L when he was awake was crabby, disrespectful, and always got on Light’s nerves. L when he was asleep on the other hand, was strangely adorable and innocent-like, even though the detective was most definitely _none_ of those things. But like this at least Light could take the time to admire L’s features without being continuously pissed off. Brown eyes swept over the man’s pale complexion, and he noted that even with L’s dark circles, they seemed to perfectly complement his skin, like dark ink against white paper. His black hair greatly resemble either crow or raven feathers, and the ends seemed to lay delicately across his face, like a brush over a porcelain canvas. The man considered himself to be free of temptation, but he had the sudden urge to brush those dark strands of hair out of his prisoners eyes.

Light watched L for what it seemed like a few minutes before remembering the open door behind him and the heavy plate on his hands. He placed the food on a nearby table then went and grabbed the metal chair outside, closing the door and taking it to the middle of the room. He sat in it and let his eyes linger over L’s face once more. He observed as the dark eyelashes decorating the prisoners eyelids twitched, and a sigh emerge from his lips. He was definitely dreaming. Though judging by the pained expression that formed on his face, it wasn’t a good one. Light found himself watching attentively as L’s breathing quickened then slowed down significantly, signally that the noirette was reaching the end of REM sleep.

Then his eyes opened. Grey met brown in an instant. L blinked his eyes a couple of times, disoriented before sitting up (rather slowly in fact, his arms seemed to be shaking just by the effort) in his usual crouching pose and stretched his arms.

“Good morning, Killer.” he yawned.

Light bit the side of his gum to remind himself to not let L’s remarks get to him. “It’s two in the morning.”

“There’s no clocks in here.”

So there weren’t. Instead of replying, Light instead pick up the giant plate of takikomi gohan and the little piece of matcha cake and held it up to where he could see it. “I came with a peace offering.”

L’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the cake, disregarding the hot meal completely. The brunet had to force himself not to let out a chuckle. The detective was just too predictable when it came to sweets.

“I can see that.” L replied, leaning forward to pluck the green cake from the plate. Light immediately leaned back, keeping the plate out of his reach.

“First, eat some rice. You need to get some actual food in you, L.”

The dark-haired man grumbled out a “fine” and Light then handed him the bowl of rice complete with chopsticks. L reluctantly picked them up and began eating. As the prisoner scarfed down his food, the brunet took time to admire his eyes. For the longest time he had thought that the World’s Greatest Detective had dark eyes, a shade that the majority of the people on the planet had. However, as soon as Light had captured him, L was no longer able to get the sugar he so constantly ate to function. As time went on, his pupils began to contract until only a brilliant shade of silver remained. And how _pretty_ those grey eyes were indeed. They fit perfectly with the rest of his complexion…

Contentment flashed in his brown eyes upon watching L eat, but it left as quickly as it went. The prisoner, being too starved and weak, was unable to catch this. “You should be thankful, L. Not many would be merciful as I am right now. You should count yourself lucky that you’re living under my protection.” 

_“Yes, I feel so safe with you. Your little cultish guards keep coming in to beat me, and I’m sitting here constantly wondering when you’ll say “fuck it” and kill me.”_ L thought bitterly between bites. _“Though at this point, that would probably be a blessing in disguise.”_

Light noted the disbelieving frown, but continued on anyways. As he rambled on, L slowly began to realize that there was a strange twisting in his stomach.

"My judgement _is_ just, L. I find it ironic that though you are always acting like you yourself are righteous, you neglect to see the importance of giving criminals what they deserve. _Freeing_ innocent people from their terror of these scum walking the streets.” he emphasized, not noticing how the prisoner froze up in eating and turning green until it was too late. L turned his head towards over the front of his bed and immediately retched out everything he ate. Light cursed and leaped up from his chair, rushing over to L to steady him.

_“What the hell, L?!”_ he yelled, before he noticed several slight and short wheezing sounds from L, not ceasing even after he had spilled his guts on the floor. His brown eyes widened.

_FUCK._

“Guards!” Light hollered, and in less than two seconds the iron door burst open with two guards standing at attention. Light glared at the one on the right.

“You! Get a doctor, and hurry!” he barked, before turning to guard number two. “You, find someone to clean up this mess! The doctor will need a clear space to stabilize him!”

Both guards immediately ran to do their respective tasks, neither of them foolish enough to stop and question why their god was bothering trying to save this lowly prisoner. Light turned his attention back onto L, who was still gasping for air. He quickly maneuvered him so that he was lying on his back. Sweat swept down his face as the man struggled to calm down and take mouthfuls of that precious oxygen that he needed so badly. Light ran his fingers through his black hair, trying his best to soothe him because at that moment that was all he knew to do. He stared back at the door in petribution. How laughable. The almighty God of the New World helpless in the face of his adversary’s failing health.

“Kira…” L struggled out. Light’s full attention immediately zeroed in on him. L weakly opened his eyes to stare at him, the light in those grey eyes dull and almost gone. “Just...let me die...makes no sense…to let me live…”

Light’s eyes widened, before immediately narrowing to glower at him. “Shut the fuck up, L.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know last chapter I mentioned L was a musician. There was another reason I decided to go that route that I just remembered. His English VA, Alessandro Juliani (whose voice is one of the main reasons I love L), is actually a singer, and by god is he good at it. So the opportunity to make L have a hidden talent was just too good to pass up.  
https://youtu.be/TSta8tcGC78
> 
> Thank you for reading, and as always please leave kudos and comments.


	6. Florence Nightingale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After L's near death experience, Light talks to the doctor. L dreams of an old friend, and wakes up to discover that he has a new nurse. Light tries asking L for help for the third time in a row, <strike>but third times the charm, amIright?.</strike>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING:** It really isn't a major thing (at least in my opinion) but there is a slight mention of Stockholm syndrome suggested by someone demented so if that's not your thing, you've been warned.

“So...that's why you shouldn’t feed a starving person, Kira.”

Roughly an hour later since L’s attack, Light was still in the prison cell, but he was not alone. Crowding the room were a team of doctors and nurses, who had all rushed in the moment they heard that Kira demanded for their services. L was thankfully still there too, hooked up to about a dozen machines. He had passed out a little while ago, which was understandable considering his near-death experience probably killed a few brain cells while he was suffocating. The medical team had managed to finally stabilize him just a few minutes ago. They had also thrown the food out, since it was unlikely the detective was going to finish it anytime soon, since he was unconscious. Anyways, this is why the head doctor, Ken Miyamoto (who coincidentally was the very same doctor he took with him all those weeks ago from Japan) was currently briefing Light on L’s condition.

Light took a deep breath, trying to quell his ever increasing anxiety and guilt. “So, what you are saying is that...when I fed L, it caused him to start choking?”

“Suffocating.” Dr. Miyamoto corrected, briefing looking up from his clipboard. “Thankfully, he didn’t get the chance to eat too much, and what he _did_ consume was immediately regurgitated. He is very lucky that he only suffocated. Refeeding syndrome usually has a lot more severe symptoms, such as heart failure.”

Light wanted to laugh at this very poor excuse of a joke. A few months ago, the only plans he had for L was for his name to be written in the death note. Then he decided to keep L for...something. Now he was being told that he almost ended up _killing_ the detective anyways by way of relatively “good” intentions. At the moment, the brunet didn’t know whether to be distressed, ashamed, or _livid_. He almost killed L. L almost _died_.

Dr. Miyamoto observed the play of emotions on his leaders face before sighing. “Kira, I could only imagine how you must be feeling right now, but I need to make sure we’re on the same page here.”

Light’s eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch. “What is it?”

“As you know, I am a doctor, and when I got my medical license, I had to take the hippocratic oath.” he began, adjusting the glasses on his face. “One of the key ideas of the oath is to ‘do no harm’, in other words, treat the patient to the best of my ability. I have lived by it for about twenty years now. I also have a tendency to grow attached to all my patients. L is no exception to that.”

The middle aged man adjusted his glasses as he stared directly at the brunet with the courage of a man ready to fight a bear without any weapons, not breaking eye contact for even a second. “However, for you I am willing to break that oath in a heartbeat. If you feel like it would help you on your quest to bringing about your new world, I am willing to look away from patients who you feel are undeserving of being saved. What I want to know is, what exactly do you want to do with the detective?”

“I...” Light started, feeling cornered by the directness of the doctors question and his open honesty. “...to tell you the truth, I want him to join me. He’s just too _brilliant_ to be stuck sitting in a cell. It’s just such a waste.”

“I see,” the doctor murmured. “Then, might I make a suggestion?”

“You may.”

“Have you considered stockholm syndrome? I’ll admit, it's not something I’m personally a fan of, but in this case it may just prove to be reliable enough to achieve your goal.”

Light felt himself freeze up. Yes, it wasn’t like he _hadn’t_ thought about it, but…

“It’s too risky.” he finally replied, shaking his head in disgust. “It could permanently damage his brain. I _need_ his mind in order to make my dream a reality.”

“I understand.” Dr. Miyamoto said quickly. “You don’t want to injure him. You don’t have to worry though. In the past, I've been a doctor to _many_ patients diagnosed with the syndrome along with other versions of it. Not all of them were beaten in order for them to develop it. A good number of them even managed to maintain their intelligence even after the trauma they went through.”

Light nodded, still disturbed with the idea even after the doctors reassurances. There had been an event in which his father was called in to arrest a man who was a repeated abuser. He had badly beaten his girlfriend to the point she looked unrecognizable to her family and friends. Light still remembered the grief-stricken look his father had when he came home that night. His dad swept up his mother in a deep hug, tears falling down his face, and whispered, “she kept saying she loved him”. It was the first time he saw his father cry.

“...I’ll need to consider it further.” Light replied reluctantly. 

“I understand. For now, we’ll keep L on the IV drip for a few days until his body regains the nutrients he has lost since his starvation.” the doctor rattled off, much to the brunets relief. “I must request that the cell be sanitized and for the patient to be allowed to bathe regularly from now on. I assume you don’t want him falling ill again. Also, it would be helpful if you put in a word to the guards to stop assaulting him. It will only delay his recovery”

“Right.”

“Also, for the next few days I’ll be assigning a nurse to L. You’ll like her. She’s very knowledgeable in medicine, and has a fine degree of professionalism to her. In fact, she’s one of the few colleagues here that doesn’t hold a great animosity towards the detective, so he’ll be perfectly safe in her hands.”

Light nodded. It would be troublesome if one of his more fanatic followers had the opportunity to look after his prisoner. He’d trust the doctors judgement for now.

The middle aged physician looked over to a pretty, blonde nurse who was over by the detective’s side, raising his arm and pressing two fingers on his wrist. “Ms. Bullook! Once you’re finished, please come over here for a minute.”

“Yes sir.” she replied, quickly writing down something on her clipboard before hurrying over. She stopped in front of the two men, and gave Light a polite bow. She turned over to her superior, confusion evident in her golden-brown eyes. 

“His vitals are a little high, but stable. You wanted to see me, doctor?”

“Ah yes. Kira, this is Ms. Bullook, my personal assistant. Ms. Bullook, I assume you already know who Kira is.” Dr. Miyamoto smiled. “We’ve come to the decision that you’ll be personally taking care of L until he recovers. Are you up for it?”

The nurse beamed. “Of course, Dr. Miyamoto. I’d be happy to. I’ll even take care of my regular duties on top of it.”

“Wow, aren’t you a go-getter.” the good doctor chuckled good naturedly. 

At this point, Light just wanted to get out of this room. And preferably bury himself in his duties instead of focusing on the lingering guilt and the question on how exactly he would go forward with swaying L over to his side. Still, he had to make a good impression on his subordinates. They did rely on certain expectations from him after all.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Bullook.” he smiled artificially, taking her hand to give it a firm shake. “I’ll rely on you for now to get him back on his feet.”

The nurse smiled brightly up at him, returning the handshake. “It’s an honor to meet you, Kira. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the detective recovers soon enough.”

Good. He seemed to have reaffirmed their trust in him again through mere pleasantries. He could check that off his list.

“Well, since everything seems to be in order here, I’m going to leave. I still have a mountain of paperwork to do in the morning.” he said, giving a polite nod to both the doctor and the nurse. “Thank you for everything, Dr. Miyamoto. As for you, I’ll leave him in your hands.”

With that, he left the room, stopping only a moment to look at the dark-haired prisoner’s sleeping face one more time before closing the door behind him.

_Tick_

_Tick_

_Tick_

He heard singing. The sound of a piano.

He followed the sound of the music, expertly making his way through the hallways with the confidence of someone who knew their way around. The multilit windows he passed were all fogged up to where he couldn’t even see two feet outside. In fact, the whole washed out building had sort of a white, ethereal glow to it. And it seemed to be brighter and brighter towards the music room, though he didn’t know exactly how he knew that was what the room was called. But someone was there. Someone important, so he raced down the halls as fast as he could, as if he were running for his very life.

Finally he reached it. The big, faded out doors, with light streaming through the cracks in the middle. He had to get into the room. He needed to reach them. So, with two pale hands,he reached forward and pulled the doors opened. Black and white turned to color as light filled the room.

And there she was. Wearing black dress pants with a tucked in, white, crisp button up shirt, her fingers danced across the keys of the grand piano. A streak of sunlight streamed across her messy honey blonde hair, and while she was not facing him, he knew that she had the same playful look in her eyes that she always got when she began her performance.

_“You and I, we're really_  
_Really not so innocent_  
_Consequences won't be easy_  
_From here, every road leads to regret”_

He stepped forward, the tightness in his chest feeling all too familiar. He had to talk to her. He had to apologize. Before she disappeared again.

_“But if this ain't what you wanted_  
_Then why'd you even come here? It's 2am_  
_If this isn't what you wanted_  
_Then why'd you put a smiley in your message then?”_

He was just about to lay a hand on her shoulder when the darkness returned. And like flicking a light switch off, she vanished. And he was alone again.

Bearily, he opened eyes, and squinted at the surprise that for once, his cell was not in near-total darkness. Huh. Perhaps this was a new torture technique Kira thought of. If he remembered correctly, forcing people to sleep in bright rooms was considered “inhumane” according to the UN. He took a moment to glance at his limbs, noting that he was hooked up to about a few dozen medical equipment. How _fun_. And on top of it all, he had that _crappy_ dream again. “The Nightmare” as he dubbed it, had occurred over and over again for years, and he thought it had finally stopped after ignoring it (and staying up for days at a time till he was too tired to even _dream_ in the first place), but it seemed like its made its comeback since he got captured. Great. As if he didn’t have _enough_ on his plate already. Speaking of which, where was that cake?

“I see you’re awake.” a smooth feminine voice spoke. L forced his head towards her to give her his most deadpanned of glares to express his displeasure, but as soon as she entered his vision his mouth dropped and his eyes widened. Sunkissed hair, golden brown eyes…

“A-” he began, before realizing his mistake. The woman reached the side of his cot, and had now tilted her head in confusion.

“...ngel.”

The woman smiled. It wasn’t exactly a warm smile, but it wasn’t cold either. Either way, it didn’t seem like she noticed his mistake. Or at the very least, chose not to comment on it.

“Thank you. However, I doubt you’re in any position to start flirting.”

L bit the inside of his gum. “You’re probably correct. It doesn’t hurt to try, though.”

“_Mmhm_.” 

The woman began to glance at the monitors that were set up against the wall, and the noirette took this moment as an opportunity to observe the lady before him. She was completely different from A, he noted. While he had immediately thought them similar at first due to hair and eye color, there were glaring differences. This woman’s hair was a lighter shade of blonde as well as longer and had straight bangs resting above her eyes. A preferred to wear her hair in a simple pixie cut with swept-side bangs. Her eyes were also way too sharp, A’s eyes were wider in shape. Even if you could ignore the differences in hair and eyes, there was still the height difference. A was tiny even for women’s standards. The woman before him appeared to be almost as tall as he was.

At this point, she had noticed the prisoners gaze on her, but instead of acting repulsed, she gave a friendly smile to him instead. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. 90 percent chance she was a spy.

“Your vitals appear to have gone back to normal.” she informed him, finishing writing up the data on her clipboard. “It’s nice to formally meet you, L. I was assigned to be your nurse till you heal up. You can just call me Halle.”

“Somehow, I have a feeling that there's at least a 100 percent chance that you’re lying to me.” he sulked.

“Excuse me?” her eyes widened a fraction of an inch as her smile fell.

“I sincerely doubt any cultist following Kira would be happy to see _me_.” 

“...I see.”

For a moment, L thought he saw a look of relief flash through her eyes, which only peaked his interest. She leaned forward over him to replace the near-empty IV bag.

“Your tenacious attitude is admirable, detective. I say that from the bottom of my heart.” she murmured. “However, there are times where you need to learn to back down. You should save that energy for something more productive.”

L narrowed his eyes even further, yet he couldn’t ignore the strange feeling prickling at him. Somehow, it sounded like this woman was trying to...to tell him something. Yet for the life of him he couldn’t decipher the message. He really must be losing his mind in here, going without any type of mental stimulation for so long.

The nurse finished what she was doing and turned heel to leave. She stopped at the door and knocked on it before turning her head around to face him. 

“I’ll come back later to see how you’re doing. It must get pretty dull around here, so I’m going to see if I can get permission from the top to get you some reading material. How many books do you want?”

_“How many books.”_ It sounded way too familiar to be coincidental, but that was impossible…

“Thirteen.”

Halle let out a small chuckle. “That many huh? I guess you’re a studious reader. How about George Owen and Nicholas Sparks?”

L forced himself not to gulp. “That would be fine. Thank you.”

“Perfect. I’ll do my best on getting you that material.” she winked, before the guards finally opened the door for her. She stepped out, and then she was gone. Even as the door finally shut behind her, the dark haired man still had the world's greatest poker face on...well his face. He was the very picture of calm, of mysterious, of neutral. Yet, his mind was whirling and his heart felt like it was doing flip flops.

You see, that was a secret code that L, Wammy, and Roger had came up with years ago. However compared to the rest of their secret codes, it was pretty crappy since it was so vague and wasn’t always clear. Yet it was definitely an excellent way in seeing who was an ally and who was an enemy. The way it worked was that one person was supposed to start out by asking “how many books”. The response the second person had to give had to be “13”, no exceptions. Then person one then suggests an author or two as a way to comment on the situation. In this case, the authors suggested were George Owen and Nicholas Sparks. He read George Owen’s work, “1984”, which was a dystopian novel about a totalitarian government. Clearly a commentary about Kira going off the deep end into authoritarianism. As for Nicholas Sparks...he remembered reading (no, being _forced_ to read) a book by him by A back when she was still alive. She had been obsessed with “The Rescue”, and while he did find the entire premise to be unorthodoxly cheesy, he had enjoyed when she rambled off for hours on end about her feelings towards it with an excited glint in her eyes. So, just by the title alone, he could assume the message was that he’ll be rescued. A nice thought, but as long as Kira knew his name and face it wouldn’t matter if he got saved. However, that was only if his nurse was even _referring_ to that book. He certainly hoped she was.

No one knew about that code. Wammy was dead, and L certainly wasn’t handing out free secrets about his life anytime soon. Which only left...Roger. Yes, that would make sense. Especially if the old man had possibly informed his successors of the age-old code, and they in turn told an ally...perhaps maybe someone from the CIA or FBI? L had a lot of dirt on both organizations, so it wouldn’t be that difficult to enlist their help, seeing as the children probably now had accessed to his database and all his important files...along with his fortune. He winced. Hopefully they won’t be prodigal about it. 

He vaguely remembered Wammy telling him something about “not giving David _too_ hard of a time”, but even if the US president _was_ an old friend of his father-figure, L was not going to take any chances. Politicians are and would forever be sleazy scum. _Poly_ meant many, and _ticks_ were bloodsucking parasites, so politicians were essentially many bloodsucking parasites. Therefore, the dirt was uncovered and placed securely inside a locked safe at the orphanage.

The noirette recalled assigning his little brothers some cases in the states, and encouraging them to use the American agencies to their fullest extent, before burying himself full-time in the Kira case. If they had taken his advice, then there was a 99.9 percent chance than his new “nurse” was actually a spy. It would only make too much sense. She knew the code, there was only one other living person who could’ve leaked it, and frankly, the CIA and the FBI were very talented at undercover work. Just to be safe though, he’ll plan another little test for the next time she decided to visit him. He _had_ to be certain that it wasn’t just a coincidence.

_Tick_

_Tick_

_Tick_

_Beep._

_Click-click-click._ The prisoner turned his body (or at least what he could turn, since he was still hooked up to the machinery) towards the door. Light Yagami shuffled in, closing the door shut behind him. By his side were a bunch of files tucked under his arm. The noirette waited until the dictator made his way over to him before opening his mouth to speak.

“Where’s that cake I was promised?”

All guilt and hesitation dropped from Light in a flash. He narrowed his brown eyes at the tone in L’s voice. “...you’re on an IV.”

“So? I was promised cake.”

“You can get your cake once the doctor says you can.” he forced himself to say without snapping, running a hand through his brown hair. “How was the nurse? Do you like her?”

L stared at him in disbelief at this attempted change in subject. “...She was fine. Civil. However, you could’ve easily deduced that by taking a glance at your surveillance. There was no need for you to ask me that. So what are you really here for, _Killer?_”

_“Keep your composure. Don’t let him get to you.”_ Light forced himself to take a deep breath before getting to the point of his visit.

“Look L, I know you don't agree with me when it comes to what I’m doing. Right now, I'm not asking you to. I'm just asking you to lend your mind to an issue I have at hand. Should you cooperate, you will find yourself with much more freedom."

L simply glared at him coldly, no sign of affection in his eyes for his former friend. Even when he was still suspected of being Kira, L always had a soft look in his eyes towards Light when he thought the suspect wasn’t looking. 

Right now, he wanted to do nothing more than laugh sardonically in the brunet’s face. Help Kira? He must be joking. Yet, the offer of getting more freedom was appealing. If he just had a chance to even _get out_ of his cell, he could easily scan and poke his way through Kira’s little hideout to find an exit. Sure, L might die anyways because the tyrant _did_ have his name, but at least it would be inconvenient for Kira. 

"Fine. Though I have to warn you, I might not be as much help as you would wish me to be." 

"Impress me. I'm not expecting much."

He dropped a set of files on the prisoner’s chest. These manila papers detailed the strangeness of N and the clues to who he could be, along with the mention of M and how he appeared around the same time as N. They also included a few bits on a few missing ex-world leaders and how Kira had scared everyone, from individual countries to the UN. It was truly beautiful, or at least beautiful in Light’s eyes. 

With one last glance, the God of the New World exited the room, not giving L the chance to refuse him. It was up to him now whether or not he wanted to earn more freedom.

The once great detective stared at the files before him, picking the corner of one up delicately like it was a dirty old rag and turning it to reveal the documents underneath. It was Near and Mello. Kira wanted him to track down his heirs.

The detective wanted to clutch at his head, but instead he forced himself to take deep breaths to calm down. This was fine. For Kira to show him this means that he had no idea how much they were connected to L. He had no idea that L knew who they were. Yes, he could use this to his advantage. He definitely couldn’t let Kira find his successors or the other orphans. So what was the solution? He couldn't refuse at this point, Kira might get suspicious and begin questioning him. “Wanting N to win” was just too simple of an excuse, plus L feared that if he refused Kira won’t share information on his successors’s movements with him. L would go crazy from being left in the dark. He won’t help Kira, but he could _pretend_ to be helpful. He'll send Kira’s people off course, make them target someone else. L will need a red herring. Sure, he’d send someone _probably_ completely innocent to their death, but the detective had done worse things in the name of protecting the people he valued.

So, time to put on his mask. With a plan now brewing, L picked up the rest of the files and began to read through the reports.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from Tomorrow by MIKA. I used it purely cause it sounded like it had a 90s vibe to it, but maybe thats just me. I was born in the late 90s, so I'm more of a 2000s kid instead.
> 
> I will admit that the effects of refeeding syndrome probably don't happen that quickly, but I needed it to happen for the plot.
> 
> And yes, for this fic David Hoope is the president of the US. I took a look at the other guy, and I'm sorry to say this but VP George Sairas is a bitch. I needed someone with a little more backbone than him in this fic, so I went with the manga's president. And yes, Watari was friends with him for just the sake of Watari knowing people in weird places. It's more fun that way.
> 
> I had also originally planned for Gevanni to take on the role of an undercover doctor, but then I thought "no, wait, I have something _BETTER_ for him." You can all look forward to seeing what he's up to next chapter. It has been my most devious idea yet. For now, Halle will take the main spotlight.
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments!


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